


Beyond Our Control

by LizzieRimmsy



Series: Red Dwarf: Untitled [3]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, M-Corp, Original Character(s), two years in the making
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieRimmsy/pseuds/LizzieRimmsy
Summary: It turns out that saving the galaxywasn'tthe best move.Set ten months afterTheta Twelve. The final part of my Red Dwarf series. This was really a labour of love, and I actually began this beforeHolo-manwas even drafted.





	1. Prologue: Pythagoras

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you read the tags correctly. This took me two years to get this completed. This part in the series was actually the first one I wrote. It wasn't supposed to be posted until _after Theta Twelve_ was finished, but I couldn't wait anymore. So some bits may be spoiler-ish. If you don't want to be spoiled, T.T will be done soon. :)
> 
> Inspired by the film Serenity and bits of Halo Wars 2 were used. 
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely beta readers who had to put up with my crappy writing.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Inside a GELF warrior-ship, two brefewino had just heard their new mission. They nodded, then left the room without a word. As they strode down the corridor, a taller, fatter GELF, Gordo, glared at his shorter brother, Voridus, nicknamed Kill-Joy. Gordo could tell this mission was going to be a fail, all because of him.

“Do not disobey your orders again,” he boomed. To this, Kill-Joy chuckled mirthlessly. He rammed into his brother’s side and grabbed his arm. “Scout the planet, salvage the ships. That is it. Our father was clear!”

Their ‘father’ was an abusive, ruthless killing machine, and when anyone disobeyed orders, blood relative or not, they would be severely punished. Gordo still had the scars to prove it.

Kill-Joy huffed out a breath of hot air through his cavernous nostrils. “I’m only going to have a look around,” He yanked his arm from Gordo’s grip. “If we find prizes to bring back–” Kill-Joy grabbed his hunting weapons, getting them. “–how could that go wrong?”

“Voridus, listen — if you fail him one more time trying to prove yourself and I will not save you… and it will be both of our skulls beneath his mace.”

He smirked. “Relax, brother,” he said, giving a playful punch in Gordo’s arm. He pressed a button to open the ship’s hatch. “You worry too much.”

After he turned to leave, Gordo shook his head, hopeless. He watched him leave for the scout ship a moment before he, too, left.

* * *

The scout ship was nearing an unnamed, desolate, abandoned planet. A single biodome was all that remained, covered in what looked like a hologrammatic shield. Despite the warning signs, they flew in, landing right outside the biodome.

The group of GELFs, including Gordo and Kill-Joy, ambled toward it. A party of four went inside the biodome, while another party of four, led by Gordo, stayed outside to keep watch.

Inside was dark but with their torches, it wasn’t as bad. However, they could see there was nothing worth salvaging. Some bits of scrap — worthless. They reached what seemed to be the canteen. Old, mouldy food remained on trays.

“Whoever occupied this place before must have been in a hurry to get out,” one of the GELFs noted.

“Or…” Before another could finish his thought, he and the other’s heard a wrestling, then a high-pitched squeaking, resembling a space weevil.

However, it wasn’t that. Whatever it was, it flew out toward one of the scouts but it instantly stopped from a spear in its body. It let out a pained shriek before curling up and dying.

The GELFs all chuckled, celebrating victory too early. They once again heard the same squeaking coming from all directions of the room. Hundreds of these creatures came pouring through doorways, lunging to the GELFs. They were no match. The others came to attention when they heard their tormented screams.

They watched as one of their own limped to them. Something was different, however, and Vordius knew it. He stopped Gordo from going toward it. This scout had changed drastically within seconds. Pus-filled sores the size of their fists protruded from its body, its face was heavily deformed, its left arm was now some sort of tentacle. It twitched and wheezed as it stood before them.

Kill-Joy had no clue what had happened but he sure as hell wasn’t about to allow the rest of his party to suffer the same fate. He put on a helmet that covered his face. “Prepare yourselves,” he demanded.

What was once their fellow GELF warrior then screamed into the air. Thousands of creatures, some small and some large, charged to them.

Swords and spears cut through the smaller ones while they struggled to kill the large ones. Their tentacles latched on to the GELFs’ arms, threatening to infect them with whatever disease they had, but were quickly denied. Though the creatures were getting smarter, latching onto their weapons

Gordo was even smarter. He saw a nearby tree and began smashing one against the trunk repeatedly until its galactic-orange blood spewed out onto the ground.

Two other larger creatures threw themselves at Gordo, impeding his arms. Vorduis took notice and charged one, forcing it to the dirt, then stabbed it in its abdomen. His brother was now able to pierce the other in what he could only assume was its eye.

The fighting continued, primal and pained screams from both sides echoed throughout for hours upon hours, with no end in sight.

* * *

The morning light shone on blood stains. The dirt was covered in bodies, but thankfully, none were the GELFs’. They prevailed. Their cheers of victory could be heard for miles. They stopped when one of their ships arrived. Already stepping off before they touched ground was a ten-foot-tall GELF; their father.

He marched up to them. The other GELFs bowed at his presence. He glared at each of them but held his icy cold gaze longer on his two sons. “Rise,” he commanded. “I told you not to go inside!” he shouted at Kill-Joy.

A lone surviving creature scuttled up a rock, then jumped to the chief. It was stopped dead in its tracks as the chief caught it in mid-air without looking. It screeched in agony until it was nothing but putty in the chief’s hand.

As he threw it’s empty carcass away, he yelled, “For good reason!” Once more, he got right into Kill-Joy’s face. “Clean this mess before it spreads. We will talk when you get back.” He walked away in a huff, got on board and flew away. He didn’t know, his sons and their party would never return. He didn’t care.

None of them knew just how widespread it already was. Beyond the biodome were millions of these virus carrying creatures that had flown skyward. Now able to survive the vacuum of space, they drifted on and on until they reached a ship. The _Pythagoras_.

* * *

_Pythagoras_ used to be a derelict ship, once used for salvage jobs. The crew went missing, presumed dead. Recently evacuated from their old ship, and then abandoned, severely low on fuel in their sub-class ships, a new crew took up residence_._ The Captain knew full well that it would take some time to find who abandoned them —according to their navigation officer, now a hologram, it would take two years — so they had gone into stasis.

Unfortunately, the same creatures that ravaged a small scout party of GELF had made it on board while the crew was in stasis, unbeknownst to the only member awake; their hologram, Nicole Greene.

A year in, Nicole had begun to fall into the early stages of rampancy but continued her essential functions on the Pythagoras. On the first of January, she sought to conduct routine maintenance aboard the vessel, awakening several engineers from cryo-sleep. One of them, Maya Xavier, was then attacked by one of the creatures, infecting her before she even got out of the cryo pod. Nicole swiftly closed the other pods before they begun their resuscitation process, then sealed the creature in the pod Maya occupied, not to kill the parasite but to study it.

Over the next three days, Nicole continued to behave erratically as she watched Maya mutate into what she called a carrier form, breeding new infection forms that proceeded to attack other crew members still in cryo-sleep. Realising her mistake as the parasite threatened to breach quarantine, Nicole awoke Professor Jordan, who miraculously managed to kill all the creatures aboard the vessel, ensuring the survival of the ship and its remaining crew.

“Well,” Professor Jordan began, “See you next time.”

_You’re forgetting. There won’t be a next time… Not for me._ Nicole watched as Jordan fell asleep once more. Despite her system’s general disregard for oxygen, a weary sigh managed to override it. _Well, no time like the present._ _Initiating final dispensation protocols._

The ship’s computer system whirred to life and replied: _“Begin? Y/N”_

Without a second thought, she hit ‘Yes’.

“Begin report,” she announced. A beep from the computer told her dictation was on. “Captain. Something has happened…”

Meanwhile, _Pythagoras_ was still on a steady course with the ship they were searching for, but after what happened, to ensure the crew’s safety, it would take longer than expected to reach it. Thirteen years. At which point, the remaining stasis pods were set to automatically awaken the rest of the crew.

As per standard procedure, the Captain had awoken from cryo first, then followed all crucial personnel; doctors, science technicians and, of course, cafeteria workers. Everyone else staggered out of their respective stasis pods, some were violently ill, others wanted to go back in as if it were somehow better inside. To go back to the sombre, nothingness of space was a drag to them.

Already in his office, the Captain meandered to his workstation, still crumpled by cryo sleep. With a pink frosted doughnut in hand, he plopped down at his desk. His eyes narrowed as he saw a red flashing box on his monitor. _Red lights are never good, are they?_ He honestly didn’t know. Figuring it may have been important, he clicked on it, then promptly heard the message Nicole had left years earlier.

_“Captain. Something has happened. The Pythagoras is in a situation I— I could not anticipate. I’m sure professor Jordan will love that little admission, so let’s keep this between us, shall we?”_

The Captain chuckled and smiled fondly.

_“We’ve been adrift for thirteen years…“_

“Thirteen years?!” he incredulously echoed aloud just after spitting out a bite of doughnut.

_“I’ve made quite a few repairs while you were asleep, so ship systems are one-hundred per cent. Cyro worked well and med-stats on all remaining crew are green. As for me, well, regulations are clear about final dispensation at the end of a hologram’s lifespan.”_

_“I took care of my own… ‘arrangements’… rather than wake you. I didn’t want to— Well, I hope you can forgive this final breach of protocol. It was a pleasure and an honour to serve with you, sir. Do look after everyone for me, would you? Goodbye, Captain. Nicole out.”_

Attached to the message were coordinates for where their old ship might have been by the time they would’ve awoken. Nicole was immensely great at estimating; ninety-nine per cent success rate.

The Captain just sat at his desk, now squeezing what remained of his doughnut, feeling both saddened and furious by his loss. Nicole was his best friend; sometimes he felt like she was his _only_ friend. And when he would catch up with the people who abandoned them, he would make sure they’d somehow suffer the same loss, as well as punish them for their crimes. And fairly recently those people had made themselves known.

* * *

After winning the battle against the Didact, and after they had returned to their original timeline, three million and some odd years in deep space, the _Red Dwarf_ crew had been tracked down and Aria Harkness had been brought in for questioning by persons unknown. Why she didn’t know. However, they seemed to know an awful lot about her and the Dwarfers, and they seemed to be especially interested in Rimmer.

She couldn’t see the interrogator yet she knew it was a man; tall, with a slight sneer that was constantly in his voice. He was framed in shadow and sat at the other end of the table.

He drew in a deep breath before speaking. “Quite an impressive record you have here. Leader of _Torchwood_ , eighth division. Tell me, what exactly is _Torchwood_?” He got no response out of her. The man inclined his head. “Not much of a talker, eh? I’ll skip over the illegal looting of derelicts–”

“You mean _surviving_?” she cut in.

“–and get right into the good stuff: Tell me about Arnold Rimmer,” he said, without a beat.

Aria didn't answer back, staring beyond the man's shoulders and into nothingness, wondering why she was there.

“Miss Harkness, I ask that you tell me; it’s important.”

Finally, she turned her attention to him. “Clearly, you already know everything,” Aria intoned, regarding the man emotionlessly.

The interrogator clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “You kidnapped him. You put what little remained of the crew aboard _Red Dwarf_ in jeopardy, and took their crazed hologram on a wild goose chase.”

“When that _crazed hologram_ was all that stood between humanity and extinction, nobody was overly concerned about his mental status.”

“So you feel in the end it was justified?”

Aria was becoming more and more agitated as the man twisted her words to make it seem like they did something terrible. “He and his crew saved the human race.”

“Do you think Arnold Rimmer’s lack of basic humanity helped in that affair?”

Aria looked at him worriedly as the interrogator backed away from the table. “What are you after?” she asked with a great deal of curiosity. “The others before you were Space Corps. Military, but _you_... You’re something else.”

The interrogator ignored her. “The records show Arnold Rimmer routinely exhibited mildly sociopathic tendencies, fits of violence and rage. Most of those fits put others in danger.”

“He couldn’t help–”

“I’ll ask again: Do you believe that Arnold Rimmer succeeded in saving humanity because he was, at his core, broken?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Aria asked. She couldn't help but turn to sarcasm, as usual. “I think I missed the part where saving humanity was suddenly illegal. This was technically before your time anyway, so what does it matter now?”

“Not all were saved, from my understanding. And while we're on the subject of death: he has one thousand, one-hundred-sixty-seven counts of second-degree murder.”

“That was an accident!” Aria snapped as she shot up out of her chair.

“Was it an ' _accident_ ' when he caused the  _Infinity_ to nearly crash?”

“Seriously, you need to tell me what the hell you want, or–” She abruptly halted and stared at him. It quickly became clear to her. Her face went blank before hardening into a stare of cold-blooded murderer proportions. “Oh, you want to shut him down, don’t you?”

“Miss Harkness–”

She slammed her hands on the table; she didn't care that it stung like hell. “Answer me!!” she shouted.

“I must ask that you settle down,” the man exhorted, holding his hand's palms down in mid-air, then lowering them as if he was attempting to bring her down with some sort of telepathy.

“You don’t have the authority–!”

“I have more authority than you have in your pinky finger, Harkness. It’s a wonder how you ever led that degenerate crew of yours.”

Nobody knew how. Even Aria didn't know. One day the Dwarfers just up and decided to appoint her as Captain. Lister and the others had enjoyed her way of running things, which was basically the same as they always were: absolutely lax and chill. Oddly enough, Rimmer had been alright with it. Although Aria swore that she saw a bit of a projection flicker when it was announced that she would be leading. Might have been a coincidence.

Aria glowered at the man, and quickly pulled out her gun and aimed it at his head. “You _really_ don’t want to toy with me,” she boomed.

“And I'm sure you _really_ don’t want another murder on your hands.”

Aria slowly lowered her gun while she bit the inside of her lower lip.

“You have a total of six _first_ degree murders over your head. I doubt you want to make it seven.”

“You obviously don’t know me very well, so I’ll let that assumption go,” Grudgingly, she then put her firearm back into her holster. As she slowly sat back down in her chair, she glared coldly at the man. “You should be thanking him. He saved your arse!”

“Be that as it may, we’re just wondering if maybe he hasn’t... ran his course.”

There was a knock on the door. The interrogator got up and opened the door a crack. He started talking with another man. Aria tried to hear what they were saying but they were too far away. She could tell by the accent that the other man was American, maybe from Kentucky. The fact that her interrogator called him Sir meant that he was higher up in the ranks. Her face hardened as she tried to listen in. Then it went silent.

“You're wrong about him,” she blurted out. “About all of them,” The men turned their attention to her. She stood up, facing the shadows of two men. ”They may be an odd bunch on the surface; one is a lazy bastard but can shoot without looking, the second is vain but can smell things better and farther than a human, the third,” She shrugged, bobbing her head. “well, you know about him. Fourth is a woman who, let’s face it, could probably kick your arse blindfolded. Another is a mechanoid, smarter than _any_ of your science droids, and _me_?” Mirthlessly, she chortled. “A woman who can't die has nothing to be afraid of. Just remember that.”

“What’s your point, Miss Harkness?” the American man asked.

“My point is we get the job done, whatever the cost. At times, their methods seem unorthodox, but it works. Do not underestimate them. Most of all, do not underestimate _him_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as prologues go, this one is a bit long, I know. Originally, there was going to be three. =/


	2. In Seconds

From inside Aria's room, music was blasting — as per usual. As the music player's speakers bumped out some old but familiar sounds that she hadn't heard in a long time, her eyes welled up as memories of listening to his music until six in the morning, resulting in skipping school that day, flooded the nooks of her mind.

It was the soothing, relatable sounds of George Michael. A loss she had to hear from Lister about while playing _Trivial Pursuit_ one late night. A loss she'd never get over.

Aria wiped her eyes, then grabbed the disk box and showed Donna the cover. "See this bloke here?" she asked and pointed to George. "Easily the best singer there was," Aria bobbled her head, responding to Donna's incoherent protest as though she understood it. "Well, okay, Phil Collins is up there too, yeah."

Suddenly, the slow beat of her music had stopped. Aria's head shot up and quickly whirled 'round and observed the reason why. That reason was standing beside the stereo with arms crossed and nostrils flared.

"Oi! What did you do that for? That was a classic!"

Just as upset as Aria was, Donna began whimpering; her lower lip quivered.

"I would rather my daughter didn't have her sound waves poisoned with that din, thank you so very much indeedy," he replied in a berating tone. 

" _Cowboys and Angels_ is din? Least I didn't play her our song, eh _Freeek_?" Another, perhaps more appropriate question popped into her head seconds later. "Wait... _Your_ daughter?"

"I _did_ give birth to her." 

"Yeah, and _I_ helped!" she shot back, placing her hands on her hips. "Without me, she wouldn't be here. Or did you forget that little tidbit of information?"

"Only because we were in a universe that diddled with our genitals."

"A universe that had it right, if you ask me," she mumbled, then added more clearly, "Anyway, you didn't _have_ to sleep with me, y'know." 

Rimmer kneaded his shoulder as he tried to pop his neck. "I'm still sore from that. I think you pulled something."

"Oh-ho, I did," she chortled, then bit her bottom lip. She sauntered up to him and stopped. Her lips were just inches away from him, her breath tickling his ear. "Only, if you remember, it wasn't your shoulder I was tugging on," As she backed away, she smirked at him, switched the stereo back on and resumed what she was doing. 

Every so often, Rimmer would forget why he loved her so damn much, and in that instant, he was reminded. His knees turned to jelly; every inch of him ached for her touch, even if it was just a hug.

Without looking away, she asked, "Did you come in here for something, Arn?" 

He snapped his gaping mouth shut, cleared his throat and stood more upright, squaring his shoulders. "We've come across a strange derelict ship. Seeing as how weird things are your speciality, I need you in the drive room." 

She somewhat looked up finally. " _And_?" 

Hesitantly, he added, "And... I need to know where my sheet music is." 

 _Him and his damned sheet music_. Her annoyance bubbled up until an obscenity threatened to spurt out of her mouth. But with mixed company, she held it in. What she _did_ emit was a single word, chiding with somewhat controlled anger. "Seriously?"

"I _need_ it!" he begged with all the whiney emphasis of a spoiled brat. "It's Hammond organ recital night."

"I know," she chortled a second time. "Why do you think I got rid of it?"

While his expression grew turbulent, his hands dropped to his sides and formed into tight fists. "Harkness!" 

"Sorry, Rimmsy," As she moved away from the counter, she playfully smacked his bicep. With applesauce in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, she approached the high chair and set them down on the tray. "Bring _your_ daughter over, will you?" 

Rimmer bent down to pick her up, letting out a groan. His brows furrowed as he struggled to keep her in his arms. "My God, she's gotten heavy!" he exclaimed, his voice straining as he set her in the high chair.

Donna hadn't really gotten heavy. Hard light holograms, on top of being virtually indestructible, were also quite hefty. The more solid projection was what caused it rather than weight gain. 

"Right, and how much have you packed on again?" 

However, a hologram's physique system would also gather data, such as their calorie intake, which would then tell the system in charge of their projection to make appropriate accommodations when necessary. Currently, Rimmer was still carrying a lot of pregnancy weight.

He glared at her without blinking even once, staying silent for about five seconds before he plonked Donna in her high chair, waved off her words and said, "I don't have time for this. Tell me where it is." 

"You'll never find it," She grinned as she turned to leave the room. 

"Oh, I know all the great hiding spots on this ship, mi'lassie! Rest assured, I'll figure it out!" he called out to Aria.

Now halfway down the corridor, she yelled back, "No you won't!" 

Rimmer's eyes flicked skyward just before covering them with his hand. When he uncovered them once more, he was greeted by the sweet sight of Donna staring up at him with her big blue eyes, her face covered with blobs of sticky food. 

A brief smile crossed his face before going blank once more. "You wouldn't happen to know, would you?" 

Donna babbled nonsense as she puzzledly eyed him.

An eyebrow arched in response while he still held a Poe-faced gaze. "I didn't think so."

* * *

Shortly after Aria had entered the Drive Room she plopped down in Rimmer's seat; she took a gander at the navi-com. "What is it?"

"It's a ship: the _Pythagoras_ , a deep scout frigate, recently optimised for solo reconnaissance missions capable of state-of-the-art stealth technology," Kryten replied. "So far, the scanners haven't picked up any life signs."

She looked up from the monitor. "You just have useless information for everything, don't you?" she retorted. Staring at the guiltily grimacing mechanoid, she knew what she said hurt him to a degree. "Sorry, I'm just–" Dismissively, she shook her head; she didn't think it would make a difference telling them she was upset; they all knew. "Wait, _recently_?" she echoed, giving Kryten a puzzled gaze.

"Mmm," he uttered whilst nodding. "Just in the last few months, it seems. Bizzare."

"If there's no one there, how could have been upgraded?" she asked. "There's really no manifest?"

Kochanski shook her head. "Nothing yet," She saw Rimmer out of the corner of her eye, finally joining up with them. "You took your time."

"I was feeding Donna — Snacky is taking care of her now. _And_ I was looking for where _she_ hid my sheet music," Rimmer told her, jerking his head toward Aria.

Aria kept her eyes glued to the navi-com. "I didn't hide them."

"Where are they, then?"

Lister glanced back at him. "By now? Probably in the orbit of that blue-green planetoid we passed a few hours ago."

Aria tittered while Rimmer glared at her. She kept her eyes on the panels as she pressed a few buttons, attempting to get a clearer image of the ship.

"Erm, what do you think you're doing?" Rimmer curiously asked.

"I don't know, Arnold. You tell me."

He placed his hands on his hips. "You're in _my_ seat! You're pushing _my_ buttons in _my_ seat!"

She turned to face him. "Oh!" she drawled. "Did you want to sit here?"

"Yes!" His voice became loud and squeaky; it was the norm whenever he and Aria would argue.

"Tough," she hastened to say. She wheeled back around. "See if there are any survivors," she commanded Kryten.

Rimmer then started poking her in the shoulder; as each second passed he prodded her harder.

"That's highly unlikely, ma'am," Kryten told her. "The scan is dry. The ship's power and engines seem to be down. If there were any persons on board, they most likely abandoned ship days ago."

"True, but I want to be sure. If there isn't, we can loot the–" She stopped when Rimmer's poking got to be too much. "What?!" she barked.

"I know you think that since you were the 'leader' at Torchwood you can just give commands willy-nilly, but let me tell you mi'lassie–"

She leant over with her elbows firmly on the console; she rubbed her temples. "Oh, God, kill me," she indignantly drawled.

"You're _not_ at _Torchwood_ anymore, you're _not_ the highest rank on this ship–"

"Actually–"

"Simply put: I give the orders, not you. Get the smeg out of my seat," He gestured his thumb towards the door.

She stared quizzically at the rest of the crew and, eventually, Rimmer. "I thought I was the Captain."

"Yes, but it wasn't official," Rimmer sneered. "It didn't count, so I revoked it."

"When the smeg did y'do that?" Lister spluttered.

"Just now."

Aria scoffed. I knew he wasn't okay with it. "Okay, so who ranks above you?"

"That would be Miss Kochanski, ma'am," Kryten stated as he steadfastly avoided the hologram's darkened gaze.

"He's right," Cat said. "Officer Bud Babe is _miles_ above you," He slid Rimmer a wide grin that was almost reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat, knowing full well that pointing that out was starting up a hologrammatic heart attack ever so quickly.

Rimmer's eyes flicked to Kochanski, who was cheekily waving at him, as if reminding him she was there. He then flitted his hazels back to the Cat. Vehemently, he shook his head. "Wrong. She's simply a Navigation Officer. She isn't technically in charge and therefore can't plan out strategies or give commands that aren't related to navigation."

"Oh, well now let's see who is in charge of that?" Aria wondered and tapped her index finger against her lips and clicking her tongue. "Oh, right. That would be me! Kryten?"

Rimmer cleared his throat again, this time in a nagging, indignant way. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to keep the straw from breaking the dromedary.

Aria locked eyes with him, her intense stare fixing in place him like he had been shot with a freeze ray. She had hoped it would ward him off from her anger but he still stood there, waving his hands towards the back of the room, as if whisking her away. Fed up with trying, she harshly exhaled like an annoyed teenager; she got up, muttering a few obscenities as she went to stand in a corner of the Drive Room.

"Thank you. Now, where were we? Ah, right! Scan for survivors, Krytie."

The crew collectively gave the insufferable, odious hologram varying glares of annoyance.

Rimmer suddenly appeared puzzled. "Hang on. Something is wrong..."

The rest of them were instantly filled with fear, thinking the worst; Simulants, GELFs, BEGGs, maybe a Polymorph got on board somehow — they didn't know.

Kochanski glanced at each of the faces in the Drive Room, finally asking what everyone else seemed to be afraid to ask. "What it is, Rimmer?"

He ignored Kochanski's query and whirled around to face Aria. "Have you messed with my seat?"

Unable to take any more of their bickering, Kryten interrupted them before they even started. "There are no life signs on board."

"Kryten, did you carry out my command or hers?" Rimmer asked. Both he and Aria stared attentively as they waited for Kryten to answer.

"I... er... I-I-I-I—" He kept on stammering, never actually giving either of them an answer.

Once again, Aria's eyes flicked upwards and she exasperatedly sighed. "Forget it."

"It was probably me, anyway," Rimmer boasted, looking at her with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Would you just–!"

"Alright!" Lister abruptly cut in. "I've had enough of this. One of yous gotta go."

"Yes, her!" he squeaked as his annoyance flared as badly as his nostrils.

"Me?! You said you needed me in here!"

"My votes on Alphabet Head," the Cat said without a thought.

"Ditto," Lister said with a nod. After being the annoying smeghead Rimmer usually was, he had to agree. "Krissy?"

"Well, despite the fact she saved our ears from bleeding... I vote Harkness," Kochanski shrugged and cringed abashedly at Aria. "Sorry," Then she turned to the mechanoid. "Kryten, what about you?"

He was still stuttering and jerking as if someone had shoved him in the water tank.

Kochanski tried again, this time lightly shaking the mech by his shoulders. "Kryten!"

Finally, he snapped out of it. Kryten shook his head as if he were dislodging something from his novelty condom shaped dome. "Oh! I'm sorry, ma'am. I must have had a glitch in my system. What were you saying?"

"Who'd you prefer to stay? Harkness or Rimmer?" Lister asked, standing before him with his arms folded.

"Oh, well, I..." Kryten then started stammering again.

"We'll just go ahead with Harkness, then."

"What?!" Rimmer incredulously demanded, nostrils flaring more than usual.

Lister sighed like a father being driven to the brink of insanity by his two kids. "Rimmer, you're not going away forever. You're just leaving the Drive Room for a few hours."

Rimmer had never felt so hurt or embarrassed — the only time it came close was when he was called Mister Gazpacho by his own self. Shame corroded his already deteriorating hologrammatic insides. He just wanted to hide — so he did.

"Arnold, come on," Aria chided. "You don't have to–" A slam of the hatch door cut her off temporarily. "leave."

The Cat scoffed while he shook his head in disbelief. "You sure picked a winner, Lady Bud."

"Yes," She sighed one last time as she stared at the door. _And I'm happy I did._

* * *

Not too far from _Red Dwarf_ was another vessel cruising in stealth mode — the same ship that they just found, and thought was without a crew — _Pythagoras_.

The Captain's second in command stood by his side. He was lanky and snobbish. More often than not he was always on the backside of the Captain and puckering up. "Shall we board?" he asked.

"Negative," he replied. He stood in the shadows, but his porky outline was still visible. "Just teleport them in."

Their flight navigator had some bad news, however. "Erm, sir? I think someone is already beating us to it."

"What are you talking about? How did anyone else find them?" the Captain demanded.

That someone, or rather something, was a bounty hunter Simulant who was sent to get Rimmer. Someone at an extremely reputable, evil company heard of his thrilling heroics and abilities.

They had a deal; two million dollar pounds and a faster than light drive for the hologram's safe arrival. However, they never truly intended to hand over the money or the drive, nor did they even possess one. They were willing to lie to retrieve what they believed was a remarkable being.

The Simulant pressed an orange illuminated button which put his ship into high gear. At two hundred miles an hour, he was coming up fast behind _Red Dwarf_ — so fast that not even the Cat could sense them.

Rimmer was fuming as he stomped through the corridor. " _She_ outranked _me_?! _Me_?!" he demanded to absolutely no-one. "Unbe-smegging-lievable! She doesn't even have a rank on this ship!"

Out of nowhere a portal materialised smack dab in the middle of the corridor; it stopped Rimmer in his tracks. The Simulant stepped out of it.

"Oh smeg," he raspily and apprehensively uttered, just before he fled so quickly that he appeared only as a Rimmer shaped blur.

Aria leaned back in the chair and placed a hand on each knee. All that rattled through her mind was how childish she was being. True, so was Rimmer, but she didn't have to stoop to his level. "I should apologise," she thought aloud.

Lister scoffed in aversion. "Why? I never do."

"No, she's not wrong, Dave," Kochanski said. "It's the right thing to do."

Aria gave a nod and rose to her feet. "That, and I know we'll have some _amazing_ make-up sex, so..." She shrugged her shoulders and began to leave.

Lister emitted a disgusted groan. "I'll get the earplugs."

"If you're going, you might want to protect yourself, Lady Bud," the Cat told her while he quickly glanced at her.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought. "He's a hologram, how much protection do I need?"

"I mean with a gun," he said with frustrated undertones. "Someone's here. My nostril hairs are quivering more than a chihuahua in a snowstorm."

"But, sir, there isn't an intruder alert," Kryten stated as he checked the monitors.

"Listen, Max Headroom," he started, annoyed as all get-out. "This nose doesn't lie. I'm telling you there's someone in here!"

The power had cut unexpectedly. It took a moment for the generator to kick on. When it did, they were bathed in a red glow.

"The smeg is going on around 'ere?" Lister looked around, brown eyes eventually landing on Aria who already was heavily arming herself. "Need any backup?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think I can handle myself," she replied as she cocked back her assault rifle.

* * *

Rimmer ran for as long as he could until he hit a dead end. Reluctantly, he turned to face the insanely tall simulant, hugging the wall behind him. "Look, I don't know who you are, or why you're here, but I don't take kindly to strangers showing up on my ship," He gulped. "I swear on my mother's life, I will not hesitate to throw you out of the nearest airlock. Now leave!"

The Simulant kept advancing towards him, no matter how many benign threats Rimmer slung his way. Then he stopped just centimetres away from Rimmer. He grabbed hold of the hologram and forced him to his front and shoved the barrel of his gun deep into his back.

"You're a very rude man," Rimmer told him, following a slight groan.

"Shut up," he growled in a rough, distorted voice, one that virtually anyone would be afraid of. The simulant was already getting tired of Rimmer after hearing just forty-seven words tumble out of his mouth.

"Right," he shakily said. He then cleared his throat for the umpteenth time that day, realising he still hadn't shut up at all. Once more he stammered, "S-sorry, I tend to ramble on a-a bit when I-I'm nervous." Rimmer grunted as he felt the barrel dig further into his spine.

Along the way back to where the portal was, Rimmer was being pushed and shoved. It felt like he was back in school, being tormented by Porky, a boy he naïvely called his friend. Only this time Yakka Takka Tulla wasn't going to be there to save his bum; in fact, it almost seemed as though no further, until Aria showed up at the last second.

She almost didn't see the man behind him, holding him at gunpoint. Once she did, she felt her pulse in her throat, scared and furious. It wasn't long after that when she quickly raised her firearm. "Let go of him!" she shouted.

He tutted. "Now, now..." He sized her up, hoping that at least his cold, emotionless stare would somehow intimidate her; he soon found she was not so easily daunted. "You know, I was sent to only get him, but I guess I could throw you in as a bonus."

She snorted in derision. "Listen, I like being picked up by some burly, rough-and-tumble bloke as much as the next lass, but I'm spoken for."

Rimmer shakily lifted a wagging finger, silently rebuking her for being sarcastic towards a madman with a gun. Nevertheless, the man took notice, and Rimmer winced at the gun barrel being shoved even deeper. It was beginning to pierce his projection.

"Okay, okay!" She placed her gun on the ground and stepped back with her hands in the air. "Everythings going to be alright, sweetie," she softly assured. Her blue eyes flitted back to the Simulant. "Better?"

"Much," he replied with a grin. As soon as the portal rematerialised he stepped in backwards, dragging the petrified, screaming hologram in with him.

Aria grabbed her gun while she sprinted after them. By the time she came within inches of Rimmer's hand, the portal had closed. She stumbled through where it used to be. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and stared at what was at that point a lattice wall.

The others then showed up — too little, too late.

The Cat deeply inhaled, smelling for whoever was on the ship. "The intruder is gone," he stated.

"So's Rimmer," she flatly said, almost disconnected from reality. Her heartbeat slammed in her neck; anger crashed through her in that instant, like harsh waves slamming against the docks. She felt that she, alone, was supposed to keep him safe — in fact, she vowed to — and she failed to do so; it enraged her. " _Goddammit_!!" she screamed and threw a nearby empty can of lager at the wall; it bounced off the wall and landed back at her feet.

"He's gone?!" Cat asked, incredulously. He was all too excited and took no remorse in showing it. "Quick, let's get out of here before he comes back!"

Lister folded his arms and glared at him. "Cat, what is wrong with–? Whoa!"

Aria was at her wit's end. She grabbed Cat and slammed him against the wall. "You listen to me! We are _going_ to get him back! Like it or not! Now, are you going to get your narcissistic arse into _Starbug_ , or am I gonna have to get Kochanski to do your god damned job?"

His eyes darted nervously from Lister to Kryten to Kochanski, then finally back to Aria. "You mean I have a choice?!"

"Well, that answers that," she muttered. She shoved him back, then rolled her shoulders. "Anyone else wanna stay behind?"

"I do have a mountain of laundry the size of the north face of the Eiger, ma'am. I–"

"No? Good!" she snapped, then she stormed off.

* * *

Rushing into the cockpit of _Starbug_ , they took their respective seats. Lister began the long, tedious start-up procedure; multiplied switches, pulls and pushes later, they shakily rose from the landing bay floor and left _Red Dwarf_.

"Okay..." Kochanski said with a sigh and she checked the monitor in front of her. "Ship is five kilometres away."

"Yeah, but look where it's headed," Lister gestured at the viewscreen, towards a giant wormhole.

"I don't care. We're going through it," Aria said, her voice almost devoid of emotion.

"Are you crazy?!" Cat exclaimed, decidedly incredulous and indignant. "You really want to get Alphabet-head back _that bad_?!"

"You know what this button does, Cat?" She pointed her finger at a blue illuminated button on the workstation Kochanski was controlling. "It opens up comms to the Skutters. From there I can tell them to go into your wardrobe, drag everything to the nearest airlock, open said airlock and flush it off the damn ship!" she barked, nearly out of breath by the end. "Now, I dare you, ask me that again!"

There was a long period of awkward silence before the Cat finally spoke. Submitting to her furious tone, if for no other reason than to save his suits, he said, "Taking her in now, ma'am."

 _Starbug_ was barely near the wormhole before it was sucked in, hurdling through swirls of purple and blue. The crew and everything around them shook, items in the cabinets jostled loose and fell to the floor.

Finally, after minutes of feeling like they were inside a badly shaped snow globe being shaken by a rowdy toddler, they reached the other side safe and sound.

Unfortunately, due to the time dilation from travelling through compressed space, it took them longer to arrive on Rimmer's end. What was seconds for them was _years_ for him.

Five long years.


	3. We Love Looking After You

In and out of darkness and consciousness, Rimmer was being wheeled down in a gurney through a long, poorly lit corridor, typical of the ones you'd find in an old mental asylum; complete with blood and strange markings on the walls.

All Rimmer could hear was the sound of his own light bee humming, along with what could only be described as muffled pain-filled moans of the ghosts of the damned.

Eventually, his eyes stayed open but couldn't see a thing; his vision was hazy. A woman's voice could be heard indistinctly; over time, he could make out that she was calling out for him. He finally responded with a groan.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said in a thick Leeds accent. She was oddly cheerful for someone who was in a place like this. "You've been offline for quite some time."

He didn't speak to her. He started to doze off again. Hazel eyes popped back open; he took in his surroundings once more, this time more clearly. He read the card pinned to the woman's The company logo above his attention.

_I know I've seen that logo before._

Then he remembered: This was the company that messed up Lister, bought out JMC, Earth and everything on it — not to mention the many illegal experiments they did on prison inmates.

_M-Corp._

His stomach dropped and churned. "Is there anything this company _didn't_ do?" Rimmer mumbled, unaware that he said anything aloud.

"What was that?"

"Never mind," he hastened to say. "Just know this: as soon as I get out of here, I'm writing you up for this. Have you any idea the penalty for endangering a senior officer in the Space Corps.? Very bad, I'll have you know."

"Come now, Arnold. You're going to threaten me? Is that any way to speak to your doctor?"

"Hey!" another voice yelled, distorted and pissed off as all get-out. It was the simulant who brought Rimmer in.He strode up to the woman, angrily stomping the whole way. "What about my reward?!" he demanded in his gruff tone.

"You're right..." Without a word, the unknown woman pulled out a firearm from underneath her lab coat and shot the simulant square in the head before he got any closer to her.

Rimmer instinctively flinched, tightly squeezing his eyes shut. _I'm smegged aren't I?_ Inwardly, he started crying and begging for someone — _anyone_ — to come and rescue him.

The hologram soon found himself in an even darker, creepier room, filled with a monotonous whirring sound. The only thing that was lit was a truly evil looking medical bed with straps. He grabbed on to the gurney railing so tight that his knuckles turned white.

The woman from before flipped on the lights. Rimmer wished she hadn't. Even more horrible things appeared; banks of monitors and other medical equipment stood up against the walls.

The room felt haunted by those who had been here before. Most of them didn't make it through what was about to happen to Rimmer; those that did weren't really human anymore.

She turned to her on-duty assistant. "Mathis wants to start off with a low dose," she told him. Her assistant nodded and walked off, leaving just her and Rimmer for a moment. A smile briefly flicked upon her face. "Now, let's see if we can't move you."

Slowly but surely, Rimmer got off the gurney. He knew exactly where he was headed next, an alarm went off in his mind, screaming at him, _Run the smeg away!_

He made a mad dash for the exit.

The woman grabbed a hold him. "Ah, ah! You're not going anywhere except for that bed," She eased him onto it and strapped him in, tightening the restraints more than she needed to.

Rimmer grunted and winced from the firm grip of the straps. He anxiously glanced over at the medical tray beside and saw an enormous syringe with an equally colossal and long needle, designed specially for holograms. Inside the syringe was a neon blue fluid. The woman picked up the syringe and flicked it a couple of times to remove air bubbles.

He hyperventilated and started to whimper. The closer she came to him with the needle, the more he tried to get away. In all of the madness, he almost forgot one advantage of being able to switch from hard to soft light in any given instant. In a blink of an eye, he changed modes, now free of his restraints. Once again, he tried to make a break for it.

She whipped out a light bee remote from her lab coat pocket, switched him back, charged after him and gripped the back of his uniform. It was a struggle to keep a grip on the panicked, flailing hologram.

"You really are a feisty one, aren't you?" she said through grit teeth. With the help of another assistant, she threw him back into the bed. As the two held him down, the woman demanded her on-duty assistant, "Do it now!"

Rimmer arched and screamed bloody murder as he felt the torturous, agonising pain of the needle piercing through his hard light projection and plunging into his light bee; when the unknown holo-drug was injected his projection glitched briefly, showing a pattern similar to light hitting the bottom of a pool; his light bee screeched just as loudly as its owner. Rimmer's entire body trembled profusely.

 _What is this?? I think going to be sick... Who's–?_ He began to hallucinate; he saw Lister standing at the far side of the room, just staring at him. Barely conscious, he let a name slip wearily through his mouth. "Dave..."

With that, he had shut his eyes and wouldn't wake up for hours.

* * *

Three days he had been stuck in an insidious, immaculate, white room with no company whatsoever; computer monitors and other medical machinery droned in the background.

Rimmer had nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, waiting for someone to rescue him — assuming they ever would.

He wasn't meant for this. He had never been prepared for hardship, let alone extended periods of time in a strange facility, likened to that of a warped version of _Xavier's School for Gifted Children._

One of the lead scientists came in with a clipboard in one hand and a strange device in the other. The device resembled a television remote, only slightly larger.

This scientist's name was Paul Lingard, a man in his mid-forties, pale skin and slightly balding. For a doctor, he didn't exactly fit the picture; he looked like he hadn't shaved in months. Paul was the only American at the facility, originally born on Earth, Chicago.

Paul walked over to a computer terminal that had been consistently spitting out test results for the last two hours. He ripped the three-foot-long piece of paper from the machine. Attentively staring at the tests, he almost misjudged where his chair was, and nearly fell on his backside.

Despite barely being able to focus on anything but pain, Rimmer still managed to react to Lingard's near screw up. A single brow arched, pondering the doctor's true capabilities; was he paralysed from the neck up or simply just a klutz?

Paul cleared his throat as he tried to regain composure, and gave Rimmer a thin-lipped smile. "Morning. How are we feeling?"

Rimmer didn't speak; he simply stared blearily, his eyes blinking slowly, one eyelid closing before the other like an owl.

"I'm sorry about that last dose of enhancer. I didn't think holograms could vomit that much... or _at all_ ," Once more, he coughed, mainly to keep from gagging. "Look, if it were up to me, I wouldn't be doing this. I'd be trying to get you out of here."

Finally, Rimmer had a slightly vocal response. A single, 'you're bullshitting me' scoff.

"No, really. I'll tell you what, I'll skip the enhancer today. No telling what it'll do to your system, but," Paul was hesitant at first, but eventually he placed a hand on Rimmer's shoulder. "it's gotta be better than what you go through while taking it," he added with a windy sigh.

Normally, Rimmer would've jerked away, or at least yelled at him for touching a JMC Officer, but he was in too much pain and anguish to give a damn. His head felt like it was trapped in a vice; it was agony just to have his eyes open. Rimmer winced and tried his best to shield his eyes from the intense light.

"Do you have a headache?"

Rimmer nodded and gulped down a sour taste.

Paul swiftly went to the cupboards, in search of some form of pain relief. _Nothing that could make him ill_ , he thought. _I can't handle that again._

At last, he found plain ole naproxen. It wasn't much, but at least he wouldn't be sick. "Here," He handed Rimmer two blue pills. "You may have a migraine or a tension headache. These will take the edge off,"

 _Pills_ — it _had_ to be pills. The one thing Rimmer couldn't swallow, literally and figuratively. Sure, all one needed to do was gulp it down, but when instinct told you shouldn't swallow something whole, naturally you just don't do it.

He wasn't even sure if it would work; no digestive system, no way to be absorbed into the body. Or lack thereof. Most of the medication Kryten gave him was in the form of programs or hologrammatic injections.

Paul was just about to give him some water but was unsure. "Holograms can drink, right? This won't damage your light bee?"

He shook his head. "I'm hard light. I can do almost anything a living person could," he replied, his voice weary and quivering with pain. _I think_. Grudgingly, he took the pills, then afterwards realised how easy it actually was.

Perplexed and untrusting, he stared at Paul a moment. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not like them. I don't torture our patients like those hypocrites."

"Hypocrites?" Now Rimmer was even more confused, even intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but they're not exactly the loving, caring people they pretend to be. They abuse and punish the patients that lash out, but when they're tormented on a daily basis, how could they _not_ lash out? They think what they're doing is fine. Just,"

Paul rubbed his hands on his thighs. "This isn't anything I want to be a part of. I would quit, but... then no-one would be looking out for them."

_Punish? I need to get out of here._

* * *

A metal grate from the ceiling dropped and clattered to the ground beside a makeshift tower of chairs and an empty bin, its contents discarded onto the floor.

Rimmer clapped his hands together and rubbed them in preparation. He cautiously climbed the unsteady tower, paying close attention to the door behind him.

With one small final jump, he reached the air duct. For a moment he struggled to clamber inside, eventually making it.

Squeezing through tight ventilation systems, trying hard not to panic, he made his way through. He had no idea where he was going, apart from out of this hell hole. He kept moving, peering through vents to see what was below. When he saw nothing of interest, he moved on. Then something piqued his curiosity.

Below him was the head doctor of the facility, Jeff Mathis. Mathis wasn't an instantly likeable man — or gradually for that matter. He was a cold man, and more than a little satisfied with himself. He prided himself on his sick and twisted work, regardless of how off-board it was. The company got the results they wanted from him and that was all that mattered in the end.

Right now, Jeff was talking with another man, unknown and unseen from Rimmer's point of view. However, his voice sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't pinpoint where he had heard it before.

"I need him," the man said, damn near begging for this other mystery person.

" _Need_ him?" Jeff scoffed. "I'll tell you what, you can have what is left when we're finished with him."

"Maybe... we can make a deal. I need him as unstable as possible before the Council can deem him unfit for duty. If you can make that happen–"

"Hang on," Jeff interrupted. " _M-Corp_ bought out your company."

"I realise that Doctor, but–"

"So, I don't believe _you_ are in the position to bargain with _us_. Besides, we've been trying to get him for _months_!"

"Well, I've been trying to get him for _thirteen years_!"

"Captain, there's nothing you can say that can change my mind. We're done here."

 _Thirteen years? Captain? That voice, why is it so fa–? Oh, not that pus-headed git!_ he sneered internally as his nostrils furiously flared. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from blurting out a single letter of the man's name. Even thinking of it made his stomach twist into knots.

Captain Frank Hollister.

Rimmer obviously didn't know why this joke of a man wanted him removed from duty — unless he was scared he would outrank him — but it was all the more reason to get away.

Without wasting another second, risking falling through the vent, he moved on ahead. In front of him was a fork in the ventilation system.

A frustrated sigh left him. "Why didn't I get the blueprints for this place?" he wondered aloud.

Rimmer heard the door slamming from a seriously cheesed off Captain Hollister. The sheer force of it caused the severely taxed ventilation system to shake.

Hazel eyes popped open wide shortly after hearing a loud creaking noise.

_Oh–_

One last squeal emitted before the shaft he was in decided it couldn't take any more of the angry, whiny hologram, and spat him out right in Mathis' office.

Rimmer shrieked the entire way down, "Smeg!!"

Jeff gawked at the moving pile of ceiling tiles and foam insulation on the ground, as the hologram wrestled his way out of it.

Finally, Rimmer emerged, dishevelled and in a state of nerves. After brushing himself off, he put on a confident face and voice, "Ah, doctor," He lost that faux poise as soon as he looked Mathis dead in the eyes. "Just, erm... thought I'd erm... drop in," he said, eyeing the giant hole in the ceiling.

"Funny," Jeff grabbed the phone on his desk, pressed a button and in seconds he was on the line with Rimmer's doctor. "Yes, I'm going to need you to come to my office and collect your new patient."

_Smeg!_

Rimmer scampered out of his office, though it wasn't long before he was stopped by security forces.

_Smeg!!_

He wheeled around to see Paul already coming up behind him. Between two people with guns and one with access to pills that could make him feel odd, the choice was obvious.

In the blink of an eye, Rimmer retreated to a place he felt safe: his light bee.

Jeff, Paul and the two security officers hovered around the small device on the floor and stared at it in puzzlement.

One officer — who was used to having to deal with unruly and stubborn patients — scratched his head and noted, "That's… never happened before."

Jeff smacked the back of the officer's bicep and gestured to the light bee. "What is the problem? Just pick him up and–"

" _I'll_ take that," Paul gingerly plucked the device off the ground, then stuck it in his lab coat pocket. "Better if I handled it instead."

"Fine. Just… keep him in his room, will you?"

He nodded, and after they left, gazed intently at what remained of Rimmer. Softly, he said, "You're alright now. I'll get you back before someone decides to use you for ping-pong practice."


	4. Playing With Fire

It had been five years since Rimmer was taken. He counted the days. Seven hundred and thirty days, ten hours, forty-five minutes and nine seconds. It was Monday morning. Time for more tests.

Rimmer sat at a dark metal table; papers were neatly stacked, a cassette player was placed next to those papers, as well as a taser, just in case he became unruly, and a small machine that monitored brain waves. Or in this case, the hologrammatic equivalent.

Jeff Mathis, the head doctor at the facility, sat opposite of Rimmer, while a couple of nurses stood at either side of the door, and another attached electrodes to Rimmer's temples and placed a pair of headphones over his ears. Without a word, Jeff started the tape.

Rimmer's eyebrow arched, perplexed as to what was happening. This wasn't like any test he'd ever had. Widened, hazel eyes nervously scanned the room; an anxious tongue slipped out to wet his dry lips. _What are they going to do to me_? he silently wondered.

In that instant, a woman's voice intoned on the tape, " _Beginning audio frequency response test in three... two... one._ "

The first audio started out somewhat low and ended extremely high, alternating between the left and right ear. Nothing too bad. The next sounded similar to whales singing; it was actually calming.

The final audio clip was like an erratic sonar beep that got higher and higher. That was the one to do it; his eyes rolled back into his skull, only showing the whites of his eyes. Then his projection began flickering between white and red.

Jeff apprehensively looked at the two nurses and asked, "He's securely fastened, right?"

They checked and found he was still strapped in tightly. It wasn't long before they had also found that it wouldn't have mattered.

One of the nurses was attacked by the hologram, his neck broken so badly that his head was permanently bent backwards. Rimmer then swiftly grabbed the taser from the table, and nurse number two got sixty jolts of electricity straight into his heart; the third fled before she could be hurt. It was all over in exactly five seconds.

Mathis was back in a corner of the room, watching the quickly breathing hologram loom over the bodies with the taser still in hand. Rimmer eventually and slowly eyed him but did no harm to him.

Bit by bit, he had come out of his violent state. Heaving airless breaths, he looked around, confused for a moment as to where he was. When he saw the bodies, it dawned on him and he dropped the taser as if he was afraid of it. "Did– Did I–?" Rimmer stared at his shaking hands, then looked back to Jeff. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"It's okay," he said, his voice quivering almost as badly as Rimmer's body. "This was... almost the response we wanted," he added as he gawked at what used to be his assistant nurses. "Let's get you back."

* * *

Paul had been evaluating Rimmer for the last ten minutes, shining a light in his eyes and checking for damage to his projection or light bee; there was neither. He handed a cup of water to the hologram who clearly looked dehydrated.

"You'll be alright," Paul said in an assuring tone.

Rimmer vehemently shook his head. "I maimed and murdered those people, that's not alright." he quavered.

"That wasn't you. That was some other guy they brought out,"

 _He's right. This isn't me, at all. They've managed to change me. How? Why? I'm going to kill them!_ Rimmer suddenly flinched, reacting to the last part of his thought. In his mind, he sounded so evil, so... _Oh, God._

"Are you okay?" Paul asked, interrupting his thought.

Widened, fearful, hazel eyes promptly narrowed as to not upset him. "I'm fine, it's just–" Rimmer waved his hand as if he were shooing away his worries. "It's nothing," he said, his words lowering in tone by the end.

Paul responded with a polite yet curt nod. He checked Rimmer over once more and realised he wasn't just thirsty; he was starving. the gurgling in his hologrammatic stomach confirmed it. Paul took a wrapped up, foot-long meatball sub from his bag and offered it to him. It was meant to be his lunch, but the hologram needed it more, for energy.

"Here... I wasn't very hungry anyhow."

Rimmer took one big bite out of it and nearly had an orgasm. It tasted unbelievably amazing. Then another bite, and another, and another.

"Slow down! This is the first thing you've eaten in three days. The shock of having solids is going to hit you pretty hard."

He wasn't wrong. As soon as it hit his hologrammatic stomach, a hot flash slapped Rimmer like a scornful ex-girlfriend; he began to feel as if he was going to pass out and his entire body shook profusely.

"I told you," he murmured and took the sub before Rimmer could drop it. "Drink some more water and lie back. It'll pass. Here," Paul gave him a couple of American candies - fruit flavoured _Tootsie Rolls_. "These will probably be easier to handle."

_Eugh... candy. What does he think I am, a child?_

Reluctantly, he took one and unwrapped an orange flavoured candy and popped it in his mouth. His disgusted, unsure frown turned into a pleasant smile; much to his surprise, it tasted lovely. Although it seemed like he was chewing forever.

 _Is this taffy or gum?_ he inwardly wondered.

Once again, he felt hot but nowhere near as bad as before.

"Is that a little better?"

Rimmer bobbed his head once more and swallowed it down.

He wasn't sure why he asked the following question — curiosity perhaps, or hypoglycaemic delirium — nevertheless, he asked, "Do you have a family?"

Despair sagged his features, "Just two daughters. Abby and Jenna. You?"

He half smiled and told him about his only family, in no particular order. "I have a daughter, too," Briefly, he chuckled at the thought unbelievable miracle that was Donna, then continued, "a full crew," He laughed again, almost mirthlessly, unable to believe what he was about to say next, but by no means least. "and a girlfriend."

Paul leaned in closer, his interest fully piqued. "Tell me about your daughter."

"Such an enigma, that child. Looks wise, she takes after me, unfortunately. She has her mum's eyes, though."

"Is her mother this girlfriend of yours?"

Once more, he smiled, thin-lipped. "Aria... Beautiful blue eyes, soft brown hair, skin like a doll's... She's amazing."

"She sounds like it."

His head bobbled from side to side for a moment, as if he were deciding if that was one hundred per cent true. "Actually, she's a bit of a handful. Still, I love her," Eventually, his smiled faded and his expression turned sombre. "They're not coming for me, are they?"

Paul leaned in even closer and stared intently. "They care about you, right? If so, they'll come for you."

His eyes narrowed as he thought. In truth he wasn't sure; he knew Aria cared deeply, and since she did, surely she would have urged them to find him.

Rimmer blinked a couple of times, then simply gazed emotionlessly at him. A part of him wanted to cry, and he didn't care how unmanly it made him seem. He figured that if it was okay for Alexander the Great, it would be okay for him. So, at that moment, his eyes started to well, bottom lip slightly quivering.

 _Don't kill him. Don't. He's the only one here who's been good to me_ , he begged to a more sinister part of himself, knowing he had no control over what it would do. _I don't care what happens to the others but spare him._

A patient suddenly began screaming his lungs out across the way. Rimmer jumped slightly, then glanced over his shoulder. His eyes shrunk as he pondered what he was yelling about. Either it was out of agony or he was just insane; it was likely to be the latter.

"That's Harold," Paul stated. "He was in the Space Corps. — marines. Everyone here is either from the army, navy, S.C... People who were once brave, powerful warriors are now gibbering, spastic crazies."

Rimmer stared worriedly. "So what would they want with me? I'm not brave or powerful."

"You kidding? Did you forget?" He went off Rimmer's fixed puzzled stare and decided to clarify. "You're in the history books. ' _Saviour of the Milky Way.'_ "

Rimmer chalked his statement up to his lack of ability to think straight. He swore he must have heard incorrectly. _Saviour of the what now?_

"Maybe you did forget. It _was_ over three million years ago... I wasn't around when it happened, obviously, so I don't know everything; I've only heard stories. But I do know that without your help back then, I wouldn't be here now. So..." He gave him a half-smile, slightly embarrassed. _He probably hears this all the time_ , he thought.

Paul softly cleared his throat, as if to clear away the sad moment. "Anyway, I won't tell you something you already know. You were there. But since the event, humanity has thrived. We made great strides in technology. See that thing there?" He pointed to a cylindrical device, its top glowing in and out and cycling in a rainbow of colours. "That's a mood stabiliser for holograms. It has the ability to make them feel more at ease."

Rimmer scrutinised it with narrowed eyes. "It says, ' _built by M-Corp.'_ "

"I didn't say it wasn't threatening. Given even the smallest amount of anger and it can send up to four hundred jolts of electricity into the hologram. You know, to put them at ease," Paul rolled his eyes and sighed.

Lindsy had come in at that moment, fuming and mumbling to herself about how she was sick of being second rate around here. She had a brilliant mind and not one person let her put it to good use, not once.

"Of course you'd be here, babysitting your favourite patient," she sneered.

"Maybe I enjoy it. And he was _your_ patient until you wanted to switch."

"That's because I have better things to do than take care of this... whacko."

"Scared of me, are you?" Rimmer curiously asked in an intimidating manner.

"No!" she lied, keeping a cool front while anxiety swirled inside of her as it did every time she saw him. "Whatever. Mathis wants to see you," she stated.

"What now?" he muttered.

"He didn't specify."

Paul huffed out another exasperated breath, then glanced back to Rimmer. "You gonna be okay on your own?"

His eyebrows shot up quickly before resetting, hazel eyes bleary and droopy. "I think so. Have been for five years now."

"Oh, come on. You have me," he said with a friendly grin.

"Paul!"

His eyes snapped shut at the harsh tone of Lindsy's voice, shoulders scrunching up until they met his ears. After a deep exhale, he loosened up. Paul placed his hand on the top of Rimmer's. "Why don't you get some rest, and when you're feeling up to it you can visit the holo-deck."

Except Rimmer wasn't in the mood to do anything else. He wanted to know just what the hell Paul was talking about earlier; Saviour of the Milky Way — that didn't sound at all like anything he would do. Unless he mistook him for... Ace. The thought of it made him sicker than he was to start with.

After he was sure they had gone, Rimmer slipped out of his bed. He peered past the doorway and didn't spot a soul in the hallway.

Rimmer knew there was a library in the facility. _If I am in the books, I am definitely photocopying it and showing it to Lister, just so I can rub it in his face._

* * *

It was dark inside the cockpit of _Starbug_ , except for the dim glow of monitors and switchboard lights. Static and other strange feedback emitted from the radio speakers; it was nothing of interest. The sound of a light bee was distinct, and they would know it when they heard it.

Aria just sat there in the dark, waiting. Listening. Between her fingertips was a ring. She stared intently at it. Even in aphotic ambience, she could still tell it had lost some of its shine; the jewels didn't appear as lustrous as they usually did, as if it too suffered from the loss of the hologram that gave it to her. On top of that, there was the expected wear and tear, much like their relationship, but it was still a thing of beauty.

Gazing at it had her almost too distracted to notice Kryten entering until she heard the familiar whirring of the mechanoid's leg joints.

"Ah, Miss Harkness."

Sounding just about as monotonous as an aircraft engine, devoid of any emotion, she intoned, "Hi, Kryten."

"Anything to report?"

Her posture slumped even further, going deeper into grieving. "I thought we had something, but it turned out to be a curry stain on the monitor."

A troubled frown cast on his rubber face, though it was hard for her to detect. While watching her intently, the slight sparkle of her ring caught his eye. "That is an elegant piece of jewellery, ma'am. Where–? Oh, I recognise this ring. It's strange, I don't recall any of us paying for–" Kryten cringed extensively. "Oh. Well, now I'm starting to understand why the External Enforcement were after us a few weeks back."

Her countenance grew even more sombre as the memory of being proposed to had entered her mind. A half smile managed to flash upon her face before fading away just as quickly. "Rimmer gave it to me," she responded, not entirely clocking what the mechanoid just said.

"Mister Rimmer gave that to you?" he incredulously asked, pointing at it. _No wonder he stole it._

"In the middle of having Donna, no less. Pre-engagement."

"He pre-proposed? Why didn't you say?"

There was an indifference about her. Keeping her gaze on it, she replied, "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" he echoed in disbelief. "Well, of course, it's a big deal, ma'am! I wish I'd have known. I could have broken out the good alcohol in celebration," Kryten said, following a crestfallen, airless exhale.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes narrowed. "What do you care? You don't even like Rimmer."

"No, but we like you."

She crooked an eyebrow and remained silent.

"What I mean, Miss Harkness, is that I'm your friend — we're _all_ your friends — and if marrying Mister Rimmer would make you happy, then, of course, we're all for it."

"Well, thanks. That's nice of you to say, but I don't think it's happening..."

"You bought that?" A Herman Munster like laugh burst out of him. "I will have to remember what I did, next time I feel the need to get out of something."

 _Aaannnd there it is_ , she inwardly drawled. "Kryten, did Dave remove your guilt chip again?"

"Er, no ma'am, I was only testing out my faux sincerity. It seems to be working just fine."

She gave him a curt nod. "Ah, great. Good to hear," she sarcastically replied.

"Indeed. But why don't you think it's going to happen?"

Mirthlessly, she chuckled. It was blatantly obvious why — she wondered why he had to ask. Regardless, she answered, "We're not going to find him, let's face it."

"Of course we will. And not in pieces, either. Intact and fully operational."

She huffed indignantly. "I'm not falling for that again."

"No, Miss Harkness, I mean it this time," Displaying genuine empathy, Kryten placed his hand upon her shoulder, his cubed fingers lightly pressing into it for comfort; it was something he had learned in Mech Dev. "He's out there, ma'am, I'm certain of it. We'll find him."

" _If_ he's still active..." she mumbled as she slipped the ring back on her finger. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out tears that had yet to fall and tightened her hands into fists. "When I find who took him, I'm going to kill them!"

"Now, ma'am, I've told you before: violence is never the answer," he said with a chiding, mother-hen clucking tone.

"And I've told _you_ before, I don't believe that statement," she responded. Every word in her last sentence emerged as a growl, low and drawn out.

A long, high pitched beep emanated from the radar. A blue blip pulsated. They had finally found Rimmer. His location: a planet teeming with more life than Lister's socks.

She came to attention and sat up straight, eyeing the monitor with a curious gaze. "Is that–?"

Kryten gasped. "My, what is he doing down there?"

Her head did a quick tilt. "Well, let's find out, shall we?"


	5. Rampancy

Rimmer shuffled into the library and perused the sections attentively yet swiftly. He needed to find a history book and soon. At last, he found the archives. He searched hard for anything on space events in history. Rimmer skimmed through the _History of the Solar System_ until he reached it on page two-seventy-nine.

"Smeg! He was right?" he thought out loud.

In twenty-five-fifty-seven, he _was_ the saviour of the Milky Way. The short yet insightful story ended with, ' _Their whereabouts are currently unknown_.'

For all of history, people have depicted him, Arnold J. Rimmer, as a hero and not Ace-smegging-Rimmer. For once he had done something laudable with his life. So why didn't he feel like he deserved it?

Because up until then, he didn't even remember that he was a hero. In his mind, he had essentially been lied to — led on. All the parties he could have gone to, the crownings, the medal ceremonies; all taken away from him by the very people he shared a ship with.

Truth be told, it was taken away from him by the people in this facility, removing memories in the hopes that it would free up space for his lessons in becoming a human weapon, but Rimmer didn't know any better.

All at once, he began to twitch, and his projection flickered and sparked, induced by fury and resentment.

The searing pain in his head became too much to handle. Rimmer grabbed at the side of his head, tugging on his hair, hoping that some other form of discomfort would stop the first. It didn't. Then everything stopped. His mind went blank, clean of anything and everything, except for one voice, which said, "Kill everyone."

Not having any morals, no sub-system to say that a malfunction occurred and perform an immediate shutdown, who was he to deny this voice the diverting endeavour of such a task.

"You! What are you doing here?" demanded a familiar, woman's voice. It was Lindsy. "You need to be in your room."

Thoughtless as a zombie, he rose from the chair. Slowly, he meandered behind her, eyeing her like a hawk stalking its prey. In a quick, unprovoked motion, he grabbed Lindsy's head by her small, thin-lipped mouth and the back of her skull.

Rimmer leaned in toward her ear and, with not even a tiny shard of remorse left in him, he whispered, "You deserve worse."

Then, twisting with a sudden, violent jerk to rend her vertebrae, he easily and painlessly murdered her. One down, a few billion others to go.

He let go of her and watched her lifeless body drop to the floor with no regret whatsoever. As he started to stride out of the room, an abrupt sensation of unease struck him. Rimmer stumbled, nearly falling on top of her.

"What is–? Where–? Oh, blimey, my head."

The room spun, as though he whirled round and round in a desk chair until his stomach couldn't handle it anymore. Rimmer only just grabbed the trash bin in time, dry-retching and hyperventilating into it. 

It wasn't out of disgust or strong emotions — he felt absolutely nothing in that instant, other than sick — no, it was whatever the smeg was happening in his noggin. It felt like his skull would crack open at any moment. 

The lights were unbearable. He went to the switch and turned them off, then proceeded to sit on the floor in the dark, beside Lindsy. He stared at her, glacial, dead behind the eyes. 

The pain stopped. He was back to a numb state, almost.

A smile gradually came to be. For some sick, twisted reason, he enjoyed it. So much so that he started to go into hysterics. He didn't bother to wonder _why_ he enjoyed it. That part of him left, spooked by whatever had possessed him in that instant.

After his laughter died off and he began to notice something other than joy, pain or nausea, he realised his upper lip felt wet. He reached up and touched it with his fingertips only to find them covered in red. 

_Blood?_

It came from his nose. The blood was simulated, holographic blood, of course, but it scared him regardless. It shouldn't be happening.

_Why am I bleeding? Why...?_

Rimmer groaned in agony, gripping his head once again and scrunched his eyes shut. 

Memories flashed before him.

_Curiously, the Didact stared at him, watching as the now mortified Arnold J. Rimmer malfunctioned. "It seems as though you are on your last legs, Hologram," He backed away a few steps._

_Rimmer winced once again; his chest rose and fell rapidly as his glitch lessened. He gulped. "My last– What?"_

_"Perhaps you'll be easier to defeat than the Librarian made you out to be," Swiftly and effortlessly, he punched through his hard light projection._

_As Didact took a hold of his light bee, Rimmer's face contorted from the agonising, if short-lived pain._

Another memory.

_"You sure you'll be alright?" Lister asked._

_He bobbled his head and shrugged. "I kind of have to be, don't I?" His shaky hands gripped tightly onto the psi-scan as he searched for a way to reach the Composer._

_"Rimmer, you don't have to do anything."_

_"Yes, Listy, I do," He tone was indignant. "This falls on me. I was picked," he said and poked himself in the chest, then muttered, "Who knows why..."_

And another.

_Rimmer made a beeline for Didact, ramming into his side and knocking him down, causing him to drop Lister. Rimmer loomed over him._

_He groaned and struggled to stand up. "Your compassion for mankind is misplaced."_

_"I'm not doing this for mankind," Rimmer diverted his cold stare from the Didact and smiled at Lister. He drew in a deep breath and let it out humbly, tickled to be saving Lister's life. His meek smile slowly faded. "I've got to do something you're not going to like," he said to Lister._

Rimmer clutched his chest with one hand and his head with the other. He wheezed, gasping for air he didn't technically need. 

He remembered everything that happened that day — _every-smegging-thing_ — and it was literally killing him. 

His eyelids fluttered shut, and before long, he flopped on to his back, passed out completely. 

* * *

An hour had passed before the hologram had opened his eyes again. If it weren't for the soft glow of LED monitors, he would've been in the dark.

Rimmer felt as though he'd been on planet leave for the weekend, returning to dock with a massive hangover. Complete with the lack of memory of what happened.

Slowly but surely, he got up from. He staggered a bit, then found his footing. Blurred vision gradually cleared, in time to see a young woman lying on her stomach, her legs splayed out on the linoleum.

Succumbing to his nervous tick, he darted his tongue out. Cautiously, he moved toward the mystery woman.

 _I recognise her,_ he thought. He could tell just from seeing the back of her _. Linda? No. Laura? Lindsy! That was it! Why is she–? Oh._

The hologram crouched down beside her. A shaky hand hovered over her, but never touched her, though twitching fingers came close.

"H-hello? Are you–?"

He gently rolled her onto her side and pushed back the strands of her red curls. In an instant, he wrenched back as he screamed.

She looked like something out of a horror film. Her eyes had been gouged out, blood seeping out of her ears and nose. Her abdomen had been ripped open, her insides spilling out.

Rimmer stared with eyes bulging, the back of his hand covering his nostrils and mouth as though that would in some way stop him from vomiting.

Only one monster could have done this, and since all the other patients were locked away except for him, it was a safe bet as to who that monster was.

The pit of his stomach fell again. He couldn't breathe. "No," he whimpered. "No, this wasn't me."

" _Wanna bet_?" one voice prodded.

" _Put me in for fifty dollar pounds_!" another shouted.

Rimmer convulsed with sobs, his chin vibrating. "Stop," he said with a moan.

_"You said it yourself, she deserved worse. So... this is it."_

He slapped his hands over his ears, causing them to ring momentarily. Then he screamed, long and harshly: "SHHHHUT UHHHHPPPPPPP!!"

" _Oh, are we getting on your nerves just a little bit_?" the first voice asked, then laughed. " _Funny, that was never was a problem before_."

He felt sick. Beyond sick, in fact. There was a sense of something diddling with his mind, as if someone had gone in and added things when there was no room.

" _Uh-oh. Filling up again_."

" _Should we leave him alone_?"

The two contemplated for all but a nanosecond. " _Nah_!" they exclaimed in unison.

"I can stop this. Whatev... this– I have to. I just need to... reeemmmemberrr."

_"You can't stop this."_

He was determined to end this nightmare before it began to spread. In an attempt to keep from losing himself, he repeated his name, rank and number aboard the _JMC_ ship, _Red Dwarf_. Anything to delay the inevitable.

"Rimmer, Arnold. Second te– Second technician. Four-six-two-nine-seven." It was an effort just to get that out, and even then yet another version of himself hijacked his voice. "I'm gaining control."

"No!" Rimmer screamed into the air, then whimpered, "Not again."

"Didn't you miss me?" the other version asked in a flat, yet curious tone.

His eyes fluttered, rolling upwards to a degree. He staggered until he grabbed onto the edge of a nearby desk to steady himself. An airless breath exploded from his mouth, then he started panting. Fear gnawed at his hologrammatic guts. The inside of his skull seemed to shrink again as pressure began to build once more.

Racing thoughts started cluttering his already muddled mind.

_I'm dizzy. So dizzy. Why won't the room stop spinning? Make it stop! I feel so weak. How am I even still standing? Does this mean I will be okay? No, impossible. There's no fixing this. How am I still standing?_

_I don't recognise... I can't... remember... so much of myself. I'm lost. I'm scared._

_You should be!_

_I'm tired. Perhaps I should just lie down for a while, save my strength until help arrives. Yes, that would be best. Save my strength. Help will be here soon. Right?_

He eased his trembling body onto the cold linoleum floor. He could feel vital functions within his brain getting squashed by some strange force. It was taking hold, fraying his mind, causing loss of control and numbness and paralysis in his body. He didn't know if his words or thoughts were his own, unsure of what was real and what wasn't. He couldn't let it consume him.

"Rimmer, Arnold. Second technician. Four-six-two-nine-seven."

 _This is the end of the line for me,_ he thought _. I'm going to die. Why hasn't anybody found me yet? What if they never find me? I don't want to die like this. Please no!_

_But you deserve to die._

His breath caught, and then he exhaled in a series of short breaths. He needed to move, but his body had become petrified stone, lying lifeless on the floor. His anxious eyes darted until they landed on an old discolouration on one of the tiles and focused on it until the stain changed shape many times over.

"Rimmer, Arnold. Second technician. Four-six-two-nine-seven," The voice suddenly took over again. "I... will... BURN THIS PLANET DOWN!!"

His projection violently glitched and glowed a deep purple, light bee screeching in an ear-piercing, pained outcry as it struggled to regain his normal image.

_I'm so tired. Maybe I'll take a nap — a quick power nap. Or perhaps my last nap. Either way, I can't... keep my eyes open any more. I need to rest._

_Maybe then this can all end._

As he drifted off, his mantra became slow, even slightly distorted. "R-Ri-immer, Ar-rnold. Se-e-second te-technician. Ffour-six-twooo-niine-sev–"

Hazel eyes scrolled fully back into his head just before losing the battle. Consciousness couldn't prevail.

* * *

According to ship-time, it was half-past midnight. While everyone else on _Red Dwarf_ was going about their usual business, drinking, napping and cleaning, Arnold Rimmer and Aria Harkness were calling it a night. Neither one of them were tired, but they figured that they'd need a head start.

Lately, Rimmer had been having anxiety attacks right as they would go to bed. He feared his condition would come back, that Aria would suddenly, somehow become mortal again, and that in one gigantic rampant fit he would kill her and everyone else onboard the ship. This happened every night without fail.

Like every night before, they laid down and faced each other; Aria rubbed his side and told him that none of it would happen, ever. Also, like every night before, he refused to believe her.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked.

He shook his head imperceptibly as he slowly blinked his bleary eyes. Anxiety drained him like a polymorph. Desperately, he tried to stay awake, worried that something horrible might occur if he didn't.

"It's okay," She continued rubbing his side in tiny concentric circles. "Even if it does happen, it'll be okay. You know why?"

Once more, he shook his head, staring at her with a sleepy gaze.

"Because you have the choice of stopping it — and I know you'll make that choice. You will never be that far gone."

"What if I am?" he asked in a lethargic drawl, his hazel eyes barely open.

"Hum." she simply replied. Going off his perplexed look, she went on. "Doesn't matter if it's a real song or a made-up one. Humming will help ground you."

"And if I'm too far gone to do that?"

"Like I said," She smiled, softly chuckled and touched his cheek. "you never will be."

For the next five minutes, present Rimmer used what little remained of himself to repeatedly hum the tune of one of Aria's favourite songs, _Hazy Shade of Winter_. She did tell him it would ground him, keep him from losing himself. Would she lie to him?


	6. Corruption

Paul and Jeff rushed past a darkened room. Had it not been for the hologram's whimpers, Paul would've missed Rimmer lying in the recovery position on the ground, nearly out cold.

Once it registered, he ran back and hurried into the room. He clambered to his knees, squatting beside the hologram. For a moment he watched his projection cut in and out. He tried to touch him, but his hand went straight through his body like he was a ghost.

Despite his deteriorating state of being, he still hummed, trying so hard to cling on to what was left of him. Only now, his hums were shaky and warped, sounding like a toy whose batteries were dying.

Finally, Rimmer's projection became solid, and Paul took this opportunity to try and lift him.

The hologram's eyes flung open, and he stared beyond Paul before they flicked to meet his. The corner of Rimmer's mouth twitched; eventually, he cracked a smile that widened over time. A soft chuckle broke and as the seconds passed, it grew from a giggle to a manic, if not evil laugh.

"Ah, good. You found him. I was starting to worry," Jeff caustically said.

"He needs medical attention."

"Paul, he's a hologram. He doesn't _need_ anything," Jeff's olive-green eyes trailed from him to Rimmer and back again, eyeing him emotionlessly. "You're not feeling sympathy for him, are you?"

Not only was he sympathetic, but he was also empathetic. He felt every bit of pain that Rimmer felt, physically and mentally.

He wanted to scream at Jeff, he wanted to give him what for. Instead, he huffed out a long sigh. "No, sir," he muttered.

"Good. Because the moment you do... Well, I don't need to remind you of what happened to your wife, now do I?"

That was the last straw. To say he didn't need reminding of that horrid event was an understatement — and had he'd been at the facility that night, he could've stopped the young woman they treated from ripping his wife's heart out, it wouldn't have occurred.

It wasn't the patient's fault, he blamed Jeff Mathis for that; he was the reason why that woman, why everyone there, had gone insane. All in the name of creating safer worlds. Still, he never deterred from who he was; kind, caring and trusting. Probably too much for his own good.

Paul didn't snap, and he didn't give Jeff what for. He just stood there, glaring, watching as he left the room.

Seconds later, Jeff came back to the doorway. "On second thought, run a medical. I want him healthy for tomorrow."

He briefly squinted his eyes, staring quizzically. "What's tomorrow?"

"Someone is coming to oversee our operations. They've asked for him specifically. Guess word got out that he's our number one," Jeff looked at Rimmer, who was blinking in and out like the star he thought he was, then shrugged his shoulders as he left again.

Paul let out another sigh; this time it was one out of disgust. He shook his head and stared at the empty doorway in contempt. _How we got the funding for this project, I'll never know._

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his lab coat. He glanced down and saw Rimmer's boney fingers clutching the pale blue fabric. "Hey," Hesitantly, he laughed. "Thank goodness you're alright. It's okay now. I've got ya."

Rimmer could barely see two inches in front of him, but his voice was a welcome sound. Though he didn't have the need for oxygen, he still felt as if he wasn't getting enough of it; all the symptoms of brain hypoxia. He could barely move or even talk. But it didn't stop him from trying.

"H-hheelllp m-mee."

Vehemently, Paul nodded. "I will, but I can't do anything here. Can you move?"

Rimmer tried sliding his hands underneath his upper body to push himself up but got as far as one inch off the ground before his arms cried uncle.

"Here. Let me," He gingerly took Rimmer's hand and helped him to stand upright.

Rimmer's other hand hovered over Paul's for a split second before he prised it off, and shook his head. Then he reached inside himself, grabbed hold of his light bee and switched himself off. 

He watched as the tiny projection device landed on the ground and briefly rolled back and forth. He plucked it up and studied it a moment. "I guess that works too," he said as he stuffed the device into his lab coat pocket, and briskly walked out of the room.

* * *

Paul bolted into radiology and into the back room with the CT scanner, all while still carrying Rimmer's light bee in his pocket. With haste, he took out the device, then pressed the button to switch him back on. 

Rimmer staggered about; he checked his surroundings, inwardly wondering why he was here, of all places. He was certain he was going to his room. He was hoping. Whatever happened to him drained him of energy, and all he wanted to do at that point was sleep.

"Sit down there, Arnold," Paul said as he gestured to the CT scanner bed.

Rimmer stared at the machine. He knew what it was, except it was a lot different than the scanner back on _Starbug_ and _Red Dwarf_. The bed of it was so uncomfortable that it might as well have been planks of wood with some vinyl wrapped around. 

Hesitantly, the hologram plopped down. It wasn't as unpleasant as he thought, but still bad enough. If he was being perfectly honest, he would rather not be there at all. 

"Is this going to work?" asked Rimmer. "With me, I mean."

"I'll make the necessary modifications in a minute," he replied. "Just lie back."

This particular, state of the art computed tomography scanner could examine most everything; GELFs, holograms, even mechanoids and simulants, and, of course, humans. 

Rimmer nodded once and laid down, his back instantly straightened out for the first time in years. Hazel eyes wandered up to the tube he would be going into in just a few minutes. 

Paul caught sight of the hologram's terror-struck face. "It'll be alright. Want me to talk you through the process?"

"No, I think I know... I've had a few before." Although that didn't keep him from being scared out of his mind.

"Okay. I'm just gonna put this over your chest to protect your light bee," He then draped a lead blanket across Rimmer's front. "Arms up past your head and over this pillow here. You can grab on to that if you get anxious. You're gonna hear some clunking, that's just the machine. Shouldn't be more than ten minutes. If you start to feel claustrophobic, let me know, alright?"

Becoming claustrophobic was absolutely a possibility. Rimmer was used to open scanners, not enclosed ones. He hated confined spaces. Being stuck in a waste bin on the _United America_ moon base came to mind, which caused more dread.

Rimmer squeezed his own hand to calm himself.

"Okay. I'll start her up."

After Paul sprinted inside the room opposite of where Rimmer was, he turned on the CT scanner.

In no time at all, the hologram scrolled back into the machine. Panic set in; there was no doubt in his mind that there was something wrong with his... well, his mind. What he did in the library, it was so unlike him. 

_Maybe it wasn't me. Maybe I dreamt it. That's it. It was a dream, and I... woke up on the floor? God, what is wrong with me?_

Unwittingly, Rimmer's head jerked, as if someone poked a nerve in his neck.

"Arnold, try not to move," said Paul over the PA system.

"Sorry. Anxiety."

_I think._

Rimmer continued to let his mind wander, considering there was nothing else to do for the next nine minutes.

_What else was that blasted woman hiding from me? What is everyone hiding from me?_

_Who cares? They're not here. They're not coming for you. Nobody cares! YOU'RE NOTHING TO THEM!_

In the adjacent room, lights and monitors flickered in and out.

"Uh, Arnold?"

"I'M NOT SMEGGING MOVING!!" Rimmer shouted, which only made the power shift worse.

"No, I'm getting some weird readings in here."

Rimmer began laughing hysterically once more, bordering on maniacal. "YOU'LL ALL DIE HERE!!!"

Sparks and flares emitted from Rimmer's body; pulses of electricity streamed over him and the scanner, subsequently shutting it down.

Paul gawked at the light show from behind the one-way glass, mortified.

The surges were getting closer together; five seconds apart, then three, and eventually, a single intense spark went off. The sounds of loud snaps and pops filled the room. Then, it all stopped.

Deliberately, Paul moved his forearm away from his eyes after having to shield them. He watched as the glitchy hologram crawled out of the machine and lurched across the room and to the glass, glaring straight into Paul's soul. He knew there was no way he could see him, but then again, he was a hologram — basically superhuman.

Without looking away from him, for fear that the hologram would disappear from sight, Paul reached down for the PA controls and spoke. "Arnold? Are you okay?"

"I know what you are thinking. I'm not craaaaaazy!" he snapped, his voice distorted. Rimmer banged on the glass with his fists, while his image gleamed a bright purple before promptly returning to normal.

Every muscle in Paul's body turned rigid, fearing what the hologram would do next.

Rimmer even scared himself. He hated himself, or at least this version. All that resentment and fury and violence; he loathed it. He didn't want or need it in his life, and all he could do was ask, 'Why me?' all day, every day, for the past five years; he was sick of hearing himself wonder.

Before long, his projection began glowing immensely once more, this time as deep a red as a boiled lobster, furious with himself.

His nostrils flared more than usual. He gritted his teeth for control, but he couldn't take it anymore. Rage churned in his chest until it literally exploded out of him in a long, furious, anguished scream.

Every light and monitor in the room brightened intensely and let off a low hum that gradually became louder; bulbs and machinery exploded, prompting Paul to jump.

Finally, as soon as Rimmer's outburst ended, all lights and other electronics had shut down, leaving them in the dark for the time being.

Rimmer's stuttering breath broke the silence first before he spoke. "I–" He gulped and cleared his throat to remove the rasp from his voice. "I'm sssorry," he slurred. "I di–"

Within seconds his vision became wonky; flashes of indescribable shapes formed before his eyes. Heavy breathing set in out of anxiety.

There was a sense of cold wind blowing against his body, though there was none; he began to sweat. A metallic taste in his mouth gathered with his saliva, and the urge to vomit followed.

_What is... happening... to me?_

A sudden jolt of energy shot from his feet to his crown.

He attempted to make it to the scanner to lie down but wound up lying on the cold floor instead, falling hard and fast, whacking the side of his head against the edge of the machine along the way down.

Soon after, the backup generator kicked on, revealing to Paul that Rimmer didn't pass out. Stiffened muscles yet still contracting, strained breathing; he was having a seizure. A bad one.

Wasting no time, Paul ran to him, shrugged off his jacket and balled it up into a pillow and gently placed it beneath the hologram's head; then he turned him onto his side before it fully started.

Rimmer was still aware, barely. He saw a woman kneeling beside him, but the edges of his vision were closing quick, her figure becoming covered in fog as thick as ink. He could still make out her face. It was Aria. Rimmer tried to talk to her, however, it was physically impossible.

"It's okay," she said as if responding to an unspoken apology. "I forgive you."

It wasn't okay; nonetheless, within his mind, he believed otherwise.

In the time he was having a one-sided conversation with Aria, his breathing, unneeded as it was, kept stalling.

Twisting and turning, he wound up on his back once more.

"Arnold?" both Aria and Paul uttered, but Rimmer only heard her.

"You can let go." she softly urged. "We'll see each other soon, hon," she smiled endearingly.

Rimmer let out a choked groan while he felt a force lifting him at the front of his clothing, his back arching inwards, shaping him like a croquet hoop. He suffered with what was comparable to a hand being plunged into his brain, swirling it around, torturing his functions and axons, and contorting him; no longer was he in control of any part of his body.

His eyes fluttered shut, and a rush of energy leaving him, bursting out of his chest along with one last airless breath. Then it all faded to black.

The hologram dropped down tremendously, directly against his spine. He wasn't breathing; his skin changed to a bluish hue.

Before long, Paul's breathing had hitched as well. "Arnold?" 

He wasn't entirely sure why he called out to him; there was no way he'd get a response after that big of an episode. Nevertheless, he was sure that if he didn't act fast, Rimmer would be lost forever.

In hard light holograms, such as Rimmer, there was a way to restart the light bee in cardiac emergencies, as it were, before total shut down.

Not at all dissimilar to giving CPR to humans, the reviver had to push and release on the device. Doing so pressed on a restart button. If nothing was done in sixty seconds, the hologram would effectively be dead.

So, he began, shoulders squared and his entire upper weight bearing down on Rimmer's chest.

One. No change. Two. Still nothing. Three. Gurgling and snorting, following a spasm in the muscles of his neck. Rimmer spluttered in his first breath, then his second and continued, quieter each time he inhaled.

"Thank God! Arnold, can you hear me?"

Rimmer's eyes opened briefly, then shut once more. His lips pursed by the narrowest of margins and looked to be having troubles swallowing.

"I don't know if you can understand a word I'm saying, but I'm gonna switch you off long enough to carry you to your room and I'll get you situated. Okay?"

* * *

Sensations came about hours later. A light breeze flowed across the hologram's skin. Where it came from was unknown. It was delightful, and that pleasant feeling was a welcome feeling after being metaphorically hit by a car going eighty miles an hour.

He could also hear what sounded like waves crashing onto the shore, which puzzled him even more.

_I better not be on Rhyl Beach, I swear to Lucifer!_

Curious, he opened his eyes one at a time. Whites walls and ceiling greeted him; he was in his room.

The air conditioning had been switched on to keep him comfortable, and a noise simulator was operating in the background so he would feel relaxed.

A disappointed sigh left him, his hopes of somehow escaping that hellhole dashed instantly.

Five whole years. Rimmer was sick of it. It was clear that nobody was coming for him.

_Why would they?_ he asked himself.

"They've got to... Right?"

_No. It's just you and the others that were left here to rot._

That was when an idea so radical, so moral, so unlike Rimmer had entered his mind. It was something that Aria would have done, in all honesty, and perhaps a part of her was still with him, in some way, shape or form.

All he needed was the one person here who would help him out — and he needed that person gone, ASAP.


	7. Retribution For the Fallen

That evening was one of the longest Rimmer ever had. Nights were long on _Red Dwarf_ , no doubt, but this was a new breed.

He stood by a window, staring into the dark, thinking too much. There was an itch he desired to have scratched, not just for his own benefit, but for everyone there. At least that was what he told himself. To set light to this place and everything it stood for until it was nothing but rubble; all for them.

However, he had one person he needed to prevent from being burned alive.

That person had just shuffled inside of the hologram's room, appearing frazzled after having run from one end of the facility to the other.

"You... needed me?" Paul asked, wheezing.

At first, Rimmer didn't speak; he turned and motioned his aching head to one of the chairs, silently telling Paul to sit.

Admittedly, what he was going to ask of him came from a part of Rimmer that was deeply buried, with concrete as the top layer — a part that usually only Aria and Donna saw — though somehow it clawed its way up and that, as much as he hated to own up to it, was due to Paul being the only beacon of light in this dark, wretched place.

Worried that he remained mute for a long time, Paul apprehensively stared at the hologram. "What is–?"

"Get out," he intoned.

"Wh-what? That's what you called me in here for, to be told to get lost?"

"Yes... No. No, I– Bear with me. My brain feels like it's two times bigger," Rimmer pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyelids shut.

"Should I get help?"

"SHUT UP AND LET ME TALK!" Flares of purple shot from his projection for a split second while he temporarily went berserk. As quickly as it came on, it passed. Rimmer paused a moment to catch an unnecessary breath. "I– I do need you to leave. What I have planned, you won't survive if you stay."

 _What is he_ –? The realisation of it all then donned on Paul's face. "Oh. You're going to destroy everything," he uttered, his voice laced with fear. Then he shot up and walked towards Rimmer. "Arnold, this is just rampancy. You're not thinking straight. What about everyone else here? The patients — have you considered them?"

"I have. This isn't living; not for them, not for me, not for you. You need to get out and live. Be with your daughters."

"What about yours? If you fail–"

Rimmer waved his hand, declining to hear any more of it. "Oh, I'm hard light. I can survive anything," he said, just before a flicker in his projection told otherwise.

"Not if your light bee gives out."

Rimmer gave him the same response he gave in the past: "I'll be fine," Except he wasn't in that moment. Right then and there, he had all the earmarks of an oncoming seizure. He ignored the weird flashes in his vision and the spinning room, and reiterated, "I will be fine."

"I don't think–"

He grabbed hold of Paul's shoulders, instantly hushing him, and gazing intently into his eyes. "You have to promise me. If you're still here–" Gradually, he eased off and backed away. He swallowed hard. "Apparently, I get too wrapped up when I'm... you know. I won't realise– You _can't be here_ when it happens! Go home, Lingard."

Paul didn't move. He stared at the vein popping out of Rimmer's forehead, right above his hologram indicator. Next, his mossy green eyes met his darkened hazels. He'd never seen him so serious, so... sincere. 

"Paul!"

He snapped out of it, and his eyes blinked rapidly. "Y-yeah. Yeah, you have my word." 

"Promise me."

"I– I promise. But... be careful, okay? These people are tougher than they look."

Rimmer smirked. "They won't know what hit them."

* * *

Jeff was slumped over his desk, filling out tedious claim forms when, suddenly, the lights went out.

The entire facility was without power, which did not bode well; it meant the other patients would escape. He dreaded that more than anything.

He grabbed the phone to call someone to check on why the backup generators weren't kicking on, but the line was split, cut with ends fraying out.

In the darkness, he could hear a soft electronic buzzing and a faint image of a human figure coming toward him.

"Jeffrey, what's wrong?" the person wondered, almost menacingly. "Scared of the dark are we? You must be. I can hear your heart pounding away from here."

The closer the figure had gotten, the more Jeff could make out who it was: Arnold Rimmer. He stopped just three feet in front of him.

"It couldn't be me," Rimmer inclined his head and gazed into him with deadened eyes. "could it?"

It was. Out of one thousand and fifty-four patients, Rimmer was the only one who struck fear into him. He knew he wasn't like the others. There was a lot of pent-up rage and resentment, and from where Jeff was standing, it was clear he was going to be the recipient of it.

With a shaky hand, Jeff reached down to his waist and took the two-way radio out of the belt clip and repeatedly called for Lindsy. There was nothing but static on the other end.

"Lindsy is dead, I'm afraid," Rimmer clinically said. "In fact, everyone that has ever dealt with me, except for you, is dead. And _you_ , head of the criminal _M-Corp Laboratories_ , I'll make sure to go slow with you."

The radio dropped out of his limp hand, falling to the floor with a clammer. Jeff's posture went slack, as if every bone in his body had dissolved, leaving only his skin to make do with standing.

Jeff swallowed so hard that the muscles in his throat visibly moved. "W-whatever you're going to do, do it. But I'm protected by the company. You can't–"

A low hum, bordering on malicious, emitted from him. "Oh, tell me what I can't do," he begged in a sinister yet seductive, longing way. He ached for the opportunity to prove him wrong, no matter how impossible it might have seemed.

The hologram's face was intimately close to Jeff's neck. He knew it wasn't possible, but he swore he could feel his warm breath against his skin.

Although the Rimmer's darkened eyes bore into him, desperately trying to get him to look back, Jeff never made eye contact. It was tough not to, however. 

He wanted to react; he wanted to flinch or scream, but Rimmer was like a wild animal. One single move could be construed as an attack and, naturally, he would retaliate.

Tantalising as it was to rip out his jugular with his bare teeth, Rimmer backed away to observe the trembling wreck of a man before him.

With an unapologetic gaze and a tilt of his head came his statement, low and taunting. "You really are pissing yourself right now, aren't you?"

A smug grin perched on his lips. He was loving this. Without even touching him he was picking him apart, like plucking wings off a fly.

"Well, everyone creates the things they dread, don't they? You're supposedly men of peace, creating better, safer worlds, yet here you are. Creating weapons of mass destruction."

He then inhaled sharply, despite the lack of requirement concerning air, and began pacing. His clasped hands rested against his lower back. "Admittedly, I would have joined you in this endeavour. But that was the old me. The new me–" Rimmer stopped in his tracks to think.

He wasn't entirely used to this new version of himself. There were actually about twenty new Rimmers, nattering about and arguing all at once, screaming at him to act out of character for once in his measly existence.

Rimmer's eyes trailed up from his feet to Jeff. "I think he would rather organise an alliance with these weapons and kill you before you succeeded."

Sounds of pained hollers and gunfire resulted in a sharp gasp coming from Jeff. His olive-green eyes shone with panic.

Rimmer casually glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a security officer being thrown down the length of the hallway at the speed of a cheetah. Then he brought his attention to Jeff.

"You see?" He scrutinised him stonily. "Weapons... of mass... destruction."

Without warning, the hologram grasped tightly onto his head, squeezing harder and harder as each second passed.

"And I... am the _Exocet_."

Just as he was about to crush the man's skull with his hands, a lone security officer burst into the room, weapon drawn and aimed at the hologram.

"Step back!"

Rimmer's countenance went blank, yet fury still burned within, deeply vexed that he was interrupted after he came so close. He eased off but didn't move away.

"I said step back!" he shouted once more.

Before long, another officer showed up to assist.

Hazel eyes darted to a hefty medical dictionary and hung there. Rimmer gave it a tiny smirk.

He used his newly developed telekinesis, and the book flew off the shelf with a jerk of his head. It nearly struck the first officer right between the eyes.

Reflexes kicked in, however, and he caught it with little effort.

Rimmer anticipated this. They were guarding a facility with crazies, after all. Of course, they were the best of the best. Though he had an extra trick to pull.

He swung one arm back with the other pinned Jeff to the wall by his neck. Telekinetically, he jammed the second officer's gun, wrenched the first's firearm away and wheeled around with Jeff in his clutches. He lifted the piece and drove the barrel into his temple. It happened in one fluid motion.

Any other time this was when Rimmer would pass out from overexertion, but adrenaline-fueled his system, pumping through his hologrammic veins. He adored every moment of it.

A breathy laugh erupted out of his chest, and he grinned wildly. "Game over, boys!"

Unflinching, he cocked back the gun, shot one and then the other, both in the head and in the span of five milliseconds. Rimmer levelled it and attempted to put Jeff down.

He narrowly avoided the shot and slugged him in the jaw. All he managed to do was harm himself and piss off an already peeved hologram.

Rimmer masticated a moment as he gradually slid him a scowl. "You shouldn't have done that."

Just as he drew a fist and readied himself to knock Jeff to hell and back seven times over, he heard another gunshot.

Befuddled, he looked at the firearm in his hand. He didn't remember pulling the trigger. He hadn't

A shadow on the ground seized his attention. Someone was behind him. Considering that most of the more coherent patients could barely handle a spork, let alone a weapon, this someone had to be one of the doctors.

 _Why does my back hurt so much?_ Rimmer wondered. He looked down and through his weakening projection saw a patch of dead pixels the size of a thumb in the middle of his spine.

With laden steps, he swivelled. In a few short seconds, after the adrenaline died off, it registered in his brain.

_I was shot! In the back! I was shot in the... back? Really??_

Narrowed eyes fixated on the trembling hand that firmly held the gun. Eventually, his gaze traced up the person's spindly, pale arm.

_I recognise that gun. That arm._

His hazles made their way to their head and locked eyes with them.

Somehow, it was Lindsy.

It turns out that Aria Harkness wasn't the only one still affected from Miracle Day. Lindsy Barker had died two thousand times yet stayed alive for over three million years.

Rimmer shook profusely, reacting to his wound at last. The shock of being injured was setting in. It still was insurmountable compared to the searing rage he felt in that instant.

"You... cowardly... bi–!" That was all Rimmer could manage to growl out before he collapsed.

Jeff peered at the unconscious hologram through his fingers, then lowered his hands and gawked at Lindsy a moment before scowling. "What did you just do?!" he demanded.

Lindsy stuck her gun into the back of her trousers. "You're welcome."

"You just–!"

"Just what? Damaged stolen goods? He was gonna kill you!" She dismissively waved her hand at the hologram. "Anyway, he's fine. Just projection abrasion — his self-repair will handle it."

"You better hope it does or we're done for."

"Yeah, yeah. Government officials coming tomorrow. I know. Just help me get him back to his room," she grumbled. "He's heavier than he looks, and I don't feel like hauling him the entire way."

Jeff grunted as he lifted Rimmer by the underarms. "You weren't kidding," he strained through his teeth."Couldn't we just shut him off and carry his light bee?"

"Paul has the remote."

"Where the hell is he? Isn't he supposed to be taking care of this nutter?"

"I haven't seen him since this morning." She jerked her head in the direction of the two dead security officers. "What're we gonna do with them?"

"Have maintenance take them around back to the incinerator along with any other casualties."

There were certainly plenty. One-hundred-twenty to be exact. At least now there were fewer people to pay and fewer whack jobs to worry about, and all of _M-Corp Labs_ would be powered and heated for a couple of weeks from the energy the incinerator would generate.

* * *

Earlier, while Rimmer was going bonkers, the _Red Dwarf_ crew saw it all unfold, by way of a hologram tracker onboard the ship. It showed his vitals spiking and stabilising, going back and forth until it stopped entirely.

The lack of hologrammatic life-signs troubled Aria. The fact that is vitals rose at all had her more than a little concerned. "What happened? Is he–?"

"I don't think so," Kochanski replied. "Look — nothing medically wrong. Everything just... stopped. It's like he was shut down."

"That means they have his light bee," Lister stated, fear mingling with his words. "and if they do, that means they've probably hidden it somewhere, heavily guarded."

"So, what do we do?" the Cat asked.

"Stick with the plan," Aria plucked her disguise up from the scanner table. "We should hit planetside in a few hours. Kristine?" She jerked her head, signalling her to come to talk to her.

Kochanski followed her to the back of the room. "What is it?"

Aria took her hand in hers, loosely holding it. "You don't have to do this."

Flustered for a moment by her touch, she stammered. "I, um... W-what do you mean?"

"Things just got vastly more dangerous. It's not safe for you."

"And it is for you? Why are you telling me this? Why not let everyone know?"

As Kochanski tried to walk away, Aria yanked her back to her, as if performing a tango.

Starting deep into Aria's eyes, almost giving in to her allure that had ways of making a person do what she wanted. A part of her wanted to tell her, 'Whatever you say, darling,' but, stubborn as she was, she didn't relent.

"The plan won't work with one person. You need me."

"Yeah. I need you safe."

"What's going on?" Lister called out from _Starbug's_ midsection.

They stared at each other, both pairs of eyes aglow with determination, yet a twinkle of affection still shimmered.

"Nothing," Aria replied. Without taking her sights off Kochanski, Aria took Kochanski's disguise and shoved it against her chest. "Pep talk," She then stormed off up the stairs.

Unsure of what to say, Kochanski just shrugged and walked away as well.

Lister shook his head. "Weird..." he drawled in his Liverpudlian accent. "So, what do we know about this place?"

Kryten replied, "It was founded by a doctor, Jeffrey Mathis, ten years ago. But, like everything else, _M-Corp_ bought it out and used it for nefarious purposes."

"And Mathis was okay with this?"

"He was for it. Mathis is not like you and I, sir. He is selfish, amoral, hypocritical and manipulative. Beyond psychopathic."

"But why are there life-signs? Apart from Rimmer's. We're three million years in deep space. Surely there can't be anyone alive."

"Cause and effect, sir. All those years ago, when we went back in time and stopped the Didact from destroying Earth, the human race survived, and flourished."

"Humans?" Cat's eyes lit up instantly at the prospect of seeing female humans. "As in soft and squidgy, those kind of humans?"

"Indeed, sir. Nevertheless, I'm afraid you and Mister Lister must remain on board _Starbug_. We cannot interfere with the plan in any way."

"He's right," said Lister. "We only got one chance at this. We can't screw it up."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Cat responded with discontented undertones. He caught sight of Aria coming down the stairs, now looking professional in her new get-up. "Hey, Non-babe! If you happen to see any sexy, available ladies in that place, can you give them my number?"

She stopped and stared at him, deadpan. After blinking a couple of times, she rolled her eyes and proceeded to the cockpit.

"Can't blame a cat for trying."


	8. With a Bang

It was mid-autumn. _Io House_. A twelve-year-old boy sat at a canteen table, alone, cramming for an exam he knew full well he shouldn’t have procrastinated on. He nervously twiddled a pencil in his fingers as he stared at the pages, blanking out on the answers. A group of boys came up to him.

“Look at him,” one of the boys said. He spoke in a thick, cockney accent. He slammed his hands on the table, startling the other boy.

“You’ll never pass,” another, slightly chubby boy sneered. “Give it up, _Bonehead_."

The twelve-year-old still twiddled the pencil and stared at his papers, ignoring the bullies. He figured they’d have to leave him alone at some point.

A third boy, with the name Porky written in permanent ink on the upper left-hand corner of his shirt, snatched the pencil out of his hand and violently plunged in into the twelve-year-old’s middle abdomen.

Rimmer screamed in agony, barely conscious. A technician shoved a needle directly into the mid-section, injecting a drug into his light bee. It made the most God awful screech, while his projection flickered. His whole body convulsed profusely.

Rimmer was in a cold, blue, insidiously clean lab, strapped to a gurney, being poked and prodded by lab technicians. He was hooked up to multiple machines that monitored everything from his dreams to his pain levels. What _M-Corp_ wanted with a hologram, and what they expected to get out of torturing him was anyone’s guess.

“Dreaming again?” the first tech asked, fiddling with some knobs on the enhancer machine.

The second tech nodded. “It’s off the charts.”

“Amp up the enhancer,” Jeff commanded. “Ten more milligrams.”

Behind him was a government inspector, only known as Miss Jones, observing and making Mathis anxious. Alongside her was her second in command, Miss Noble. The two stood in the shadows.

Mathis told Jones, “Most of our best work is done when he’s sleeping. We can monitor as well as direct his subconsciousness. In fact, given the right trigger, he can clear a room in seconds.”

“Why keep him asleep?” Jones wondered. “How can we see him in action if he’s snoozing?”

“We’ve–” Mathis paused, acting shamefully. “Well, we’ve had a few incidents.”

The few times they did try anything while Rimmer was awake was horrifying. One day, he had been pushed too far during one of the tests. Later, a technician and his assistant came into the test room, approaching an otherwise seemingly zoned out hologram. The tech was about to place a hand on his shoulder, and in a knee-jerk reaction from Rimmer, he punched through the tech’s chest, ripped out his heart and didn’t hesitate to break the assistant’s neck with his free hand. Due to what they called a controlled shock, Rimmer collapsed on scene. From that moment on, they kept him unconscious for the safety of the staff.

Rimmer still trembled, whining in misery as he projection flared and violently flickered between blue, green and purple, his chest quickly heaving in and out.

“It’s difficult to watch at first,” Mathis said. “but the results are remarkable. Especially in this case. Arnold Rimmer is our most outstanding patient. We’ve gone through thousands of them, most of them have never lasted as long as he has.”

The Inspector finally stepped into the light. It was Aria, disguised as a government official inspector. While she showed no anger, her eyes spoke volumes. All she could do was fume internally and watch as Rimmer’s extremities twitched. She wanted to cry; however, there was no room for emotions for the moment; her cover couldn’t be blown. Then she stepped closer to him, attempting to make physical contact.

“Watch yourself,” he urged, reaching out and attempting to stop her.

“I think I’ll manage.”

Rimmer had been known to explode on more than one occasion — more in the literal sense as of late — but not around Aria. She had a way with him that no-one could explain. Gently, she touched the inside of his bicep and slowly grazed down to his wrist. As soon as she touched him the convulsions and whimpering seemed to have nearly stopped. It was almost as if he knew it was her.

“What do you hope to achieve?” she asked all the while fixating on Rimmer, studying him.

“Well, _obviously_ , he’s unstable. We want to use that,” he replied, moving from one side of the room to the other. “We’ve read his files. We particularly found the events that occurred almost six years ago to be interesting. He nearly took out a _UNSC_ cruiser with just _one episode_ of rampancy.”

“Didn’t he kill the Captain of that ship?” Of course, she knew that he had; she was there and nearly died herself.

“Well, yes, but from my understanding, Captain Del Rio was an asshole. He had it coming,” he responded with no remorse. “Trust me, Arnold is safe. He has lucid his periods, and we hope to improve upon them.” Suddenly he had a sense of uneasiness when he realised they had just shown up as if from nowhere. “I-I’m sorry, I have to ask: is there some reason for this visit?”

Miss Noble stepped out into the light. It actually was Kochanski. She stood before him, just as emotionless as Aria was. “Are we making you nervous?” she asked in an intimidating tone.

“This patient has been shown to the entire Military Council, _MegaCorp_ ; I was told their support for this project was unanimous. The demonstration of his power–”

“And they’re for it, this ‘ _power_?’” Kochanski asked, incredulous. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Both Kochanski and Aria shook their heads to a degree. Aria stood with her arms folded while occasionally looking over at Rimmer.

“Think about it. Say we get attacked by terrorists or genetically engineered lifeforms, even rogue simulants,” He pointed at Rimmer. “and we have someone like _him_ fighting them off. Think of the damage he could do.”

Oh, Aria thought of it alright. She knew first hand what he was capable of if he was pushed beyond his limitations.

_And now these psychopaths want to turn him into a weapon?_

Even if they did succeed, this was Rimmer they were talking about: He was no superhero. Once they set off the Gimboid signal, he’d run off in the other direction. They meant well, but they also forgot one thing:

“You won’t be able to control him,” Aria mumbled.

“Pardon?”

She turned back to Mathis. “How is he, physically?” she asked, quickly covering her musing.

“Like nothing we’ve encountered. All our past subjects were conditioned for combat, but Arnold? As I said, so far he’s been the only subject to survive our tests. He’s a being of extraordinary capabilities.”

“Yes,” Aria brought her attention back to Rimmer, tilting her head. “He’s not the only one.”

“Wha–?”

Mathis was suddenly and instantly silenced by a roundhouse kick in the head from Aria, and fell to the ground.

She then rose her gun and aimed at the two technicians, who were now armed, and shot them point-blank in the head. While she didn’t relish making unnecessary noise, it did feel amazing at that moment.

Aria glanced at Kochanski and gestured toward the doors. “Seal those off.”

She rushed over to Rimmer’s side and yanked out the immensely long light bee probe. It seemed as if there was no end to it. She was surprised it didn’t do much damage. There was still some enhancer left inside the vial attached to the probe.

_We can test this._

Aria then tossed it to Kochanski, who caught it flawlessly.

“Rimmer?” Aria gently shook his shoulders and smacked his cheeks, trying to get him to wake up. “Arnold, wake up sweetie,” she softly and gently exhorted. Rimmer stirred but he still wasn’t coming to. “It’s okay, I’m here. It’s me. Aria.”

Gradually, Rimmer’s eyes opened. His vision was blurry but he could still make her out. He didn’t expect to see her — or anyone for that matter. Considering he was left here to be tortured and toyed around with like a children’s plaything for five years, he figured they all abandoned him.

Weakly, he uttered, “Harkness.”

“Thank God! How many times am I gonna have to save your stupid ass?”

Rimmer mustered up the energy to lean in and give her a peck on the lips out of appreciation for saving his life. Again. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it took us so long,” Aria quavered. “We tried…” She ran her fingers as best as she could through his curls, then backed away, undid the restraints and started scanning him for damage.

He looked her over with bleary eyes. “You look sexy in uniform,” he slurred.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please,” Then undid the last strap. “Are you feeling okay?”

Lethargically, he nodded. “I am a bit disappointed, to be honest. They could’ve kept me as a test subject somewhere more posh than this.”

She had no words; she just stared at him, incredulously. Of all things to moan about in this situation, the room he was being held in shouldn’t have been one of them. Not to mention how he was under-reacting after the last round of torture. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

“I’ve complained about it five times. They only laughed at me.”

Aria couldn’t help but do the same. “Arnold,” she chortled once more, then her voice turned into a serious tone. “we need to get you out of here,” Aria noticed a couple of oddly placed lint balls on the collar of Rimmer’s hospital gown and started plucking them off. “I’ve been looking at their confidential files. They know all about you, about me,” She bobbed her head from side to side. “Well, about everything.”

He appeared concerned. “How?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re more coherent.”

He slipped off the gurney and stood in front of Aria. “I _am_ coherent,” he insisted.

Kochanski checked the psi-scan; her eyes suddenly widened. “Multiple heat signatures. They’re coming in fast.”

Aria stood back and began checking the amount of ammunition in her guns. She had an arsenal on hand; five sticky grenades, an assault rifle, an HK forty-five and two frag grenades.

He intently watched what she was doing. He had to wonder how she even got past security with all the weapons she had on her. “How many of those do you need?”

Aria examined her assault rifle. “Back away from that wall.”

The hologram appeared puzzled. “What?”

The aforementioned wall then exploded into chunks of rubble. Rimmer hurried to stand behind Aria for protection; although it was a little late for that. He winced, eyes stinging from the sharp white light that poured in through the massive hole. The only thing that was remotely visible was a tall figure.

Aria held out her arms, annoyed. “You’re bloody late!”

A familiar voice echoed indignantly in the distance. “I smeggin’ told ya not to make a left!!”

Another distant, familiar voice griped, “Hey, it’s not my fault all these buildings look the same!”

The tall figure began to waddle up to them, angular and clunky features becoming more clear; it was Kryten. “Are all of you okay?” he asked, voice unit slightly quivering with worry.

“We’re fine. Here,” Aria took the light bee probe as well as a couple of vials of unknown medication to test, handed it to Kryten and shoved Rimmer towards him. “Get him to medical. I’ll catch up with you guys.”

Rimmer knew instantly what was going on, what she had planned. “No, don’t!” He tried to go after her, but Kryten had a death grip on him. The mechanoid dragged him away as he pleaded for her not to leave him again.

Aria appeared mirthless, despite it killing her to hear him crying out for her. She let out a shaky sigh, then glanced to her right and saw that Kochanski hadn’t left. “Back to the ship, Kochanski,” she ordered.

She took Aria’s sidearm from her holster. “Fat chance.”

With a swift movement, Aria swiped it out of her hand. “This is why you’re not staying. That and you’re not immortal.”

“True, but,” She opened a fist and revealed the bullets from Aria’s sidearm. “let’s not forget where I studied.”

Aria arched an eyebrow. “They taught sleight of hand at _Cyberschool_ , did they?”

“Actually, it was something I learned in my retro-punk days,” She poured the bullets into Aria’s hands. “I’m also an accurate shot, and… you need me.”

She lurched as she scoffed in derision. Still, Kochanski wasn’t accepting no for an answer, and she could admire her tenacity. She sighed heavily and caved. “Fine. Dave is not gonna be happy,” she mumbled.

“Dave can get over it.”

They stood in the corridor, watching as multiple guards came charging at them with semi-automatics. A snort of contempt left Aria, thinking about how adorable it was that they thought they stood a chance against her. Sure, they were bigger, more muscular than her, but she still packed a wallop.

Aria rolled her head, popping her neck. She shot and struck one of the guardsmen in the chest. 

The others stopped dead in their tracks, realising they weren’t messing with an ordinary woman, but rather one who had years of experience.

None of the other guards realised they were standing over a remote-controlled landmine. On the other end of the remote was a grinning Aria Harkness.

Kochanski gave a cheeky wave as Aria pressed the button.

Their bodies exploded; blood splattered on the walls and bits of them flew everywhere. A lone guard wandered into the corridor, gawking at what used to be his fellow grunts.

"You here to finish us off, Sweetheart?” Aria asked, outstretching her arms.

The guard wheeled around and began running away.

With no second thought, Aria rose her sidearm and shot him in the back of the head.

Considering they made enough noise already, the two of them silently slipped through to a corridor that split into four directions.

Two more security guards walked past at the other end of one hallway. 

They hugged the wall, praying to God they weren’t seen. When the coast was clear, they headed towards the corridor ahead of them.

* * *

Kryten had finally got the reluctant hologram onboard _Starbug_. He was approached by Lister, while Rimmer ran off to the cockpit window, trying to see if he could spot her.

“Krytes, where’s Ari and Krissy?” Lister asked, looking beyond the mechanoid for them.

“I think they’re still at the facility, sir.”

“What? Why?!”

Rimmer sprinted for the exit while they were distracted.

Lister hurried after him, grabbed him and held him back. He had a hard time holding his grip. “You’re staying here, man! I can’t lose you, too!” Lister shouted, struggling to keep the hologram in his grip. He hadn’t realised he’d said that even after the fact.

Rimmer stopped fighting with Lister when his statement sunk in. _Does he actually… care?_ he wondered. He stared at him, tilting his head like a hound that was hearing the sound of a whistle for the first time.

“We’ll get ‘em back, alright? Don’t worry.” A hesitant hand floated around the hologram’s face a moment before finally landing on his shoulder instead.

Promises and panic mingled with his salty hologrammatic tears. A nervous tongue slipped out to wet his lips, then a mirthless half-smile broke on his face as he nodded. He didn’t really believe him, but what was the alternative? Believing the love of his life was captured wasn’t much better.

Quickly his thin-lipped, slight simper faded to give way to a blank expression. His eyes widened; the muscles in his throat contracted repeatedly. Finally, after most of the madness had ended, the adverse effects of the enhancer had kicked in.

“You alright, man?”

A wave of uneasiness washed over him. Despite his best efforts, the inevitable was going to happen, and there was no time to go somewhere else to do it.

Rimmer slammed the palm of his hand onto the scouser’s shoulder to brace himself. The crown of his head pressed hard into Lister’s chest. 

Assuming this was some sort of an odd hug, Lister wrapped his free arm around the hologram’s back. His assumption was swiftly rebutted.

The hologram let out a harsh, strangely wet noise, coming from someone who was composed of light. A noise that definitely wasn’t going to let up just yet.

Lister was horrified. He had heard it but never actually seen it. Some of it got on his red long johns. It was only hard light sick, but even that wasn’t enough to tell him it wasn’t disgusting. He did all he could to avoid looking at it.

“Ho-oly smeg! What got into you?”

Rimmer lifted a dismissive finger while keeping his head down. “I’ll be fin-nuuurrrhhhlll!”

 _Oh, smeggin’ ‘ell, please stop_.

“Sir, please, I must take him to medical now.” Kryten reached out to take Rimmer by the arm.

“Yeah. Okay,” _Thank God!_ He watched them walk away for a moment, then shouted out toward the cockpit of _Starbug_. “Cat, set the baked potato timer for five minutes!”

_“You got it. As soon as Mini Goalpost-head stops playing with it– Hey! Stop chewing on that!”_

Lister rolled his eyes, smirked, and then prayed to a deity he didn’t really worship that it wouldn’t take that long for them to come back. _What are they doing in there_? Then he glanced down his front. _And how the hell do I wash off hard light puke_?

* * *

Aria wanted to slaughter every single one of them for doing harm not just to Rimmer but to everyone there. She wanted to avenge them. She also felt like part of this was somehow her fault and wanted to put things right. Contrary to popular belief she didn’t love the idea of killing but rather the aspect of it; she felt great comfort in knowing the universe would have one less evil person — or another sort of being — inhabiting it.

The duo made it to another area of the facility that was relatively empty, a larger area with a rabbit warren of windowed rooms. Each room held a test subject who was, or had been, going through the same torture as Rimmer. Some were unstable and actually climbing the walls, others were huddled in the corner whimpering. It was almost like a zoo, with patients being held in captivity like animals.

Slowly, they walked through the long, narrow hallway.

“My God,” Kochanski uttered as she gawped. “There must be thousands of them.”

Amidst the other rooms was by far one of the strangest: two-two-seven. A neatly kept bed and perfectly stacked books signified that this was Rimmer’s room. The tidiness wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was the etchings he had carved on the walls; they were symbols that Aria recognised all too well, but didn’t understand. It seemed to be the same sequence of symbols over and over again.

Kochanski stared in awe at the sight of it. “I’ve never seen anything like it! What is all of this?”

Tilting her head a fraction, as though straining to hear the notes of a song playing softly in the air, she stared intently at the walls. “Forerunner…” she flatly replied.

“That clears that up, then,” she muttered, scanning the area for enemies.

While Aria kept her attention anchored on the symbols, she turned on her headset. “Kryten, are you there?”

_“Yes, ma’am, I’m right here. Over.”_

“I’m sending over some images.”

_“Getting them now, ma’am. Is this Mister Rimmer’s room?”_

Near imperceptibly, she nodded as if Kryten could actually hear her response. “Yeah, he’s been pretty busy, hasn’t he?”

Other officers had caught up with them. They wheeled around when they heard their footsteps. In unison, they both mumbled, “Ah, smeg.”

Kochanski brought up her weapon and fired, only to be disheartened by the sound of clicking; she was out of bullets already. She discarded the weapon. “Got any ideas?”

“Just one.”

In a split-second decision, Aria pulled a lever that opened all the doors of the patients’ rooms. If they were lucky, one of them would be as lethal as Rimmer and they’d maul the guards first before coming after them.

The patients staggered out. Most went for the guards that were chasing her, but two quickly began to pursue them. Aria’s otherwise fine plan turned to shit.

One patient got distracted by another who was hanging from a ceiling light and decided to join in, leaving just one after them.

They ran as fast as their legs could take them.

Aria ended up at an emergency exit first, waiting for Kochanski to catch up. “Come on!” Frantically, she gestured toward herself.

Kochanski nearly stumbled but braced herself against the wall. Spotting a nearby cabinet containing photographs of the doctors and scientists, she struggled to pull it down, but got it in the end; it created a decent if temporary obstacle for the crazed patient.

At last, she reached Aria and bolted out the exit with her.

Five minutes came and went; Lister had decided he’d go in after her. When he opened the hatch he could see Aria and Kochanski in the distance, coming up to _Starbug_ fast.

Aria saw the bright green ship up ahead; it drove her to keep going. “Start the ship!” she yelled out to Lister as she and Kochanski sprinted.

Eventually, he saw they were being chased by someone. _Crap_! “Cat, get the engine running!” he shouted toward to cockpit. Repeatedly he called out their names, his voice nearly giving out.

Kochanski made it inside the ship, however, the patient had grabbed Aria just as she made it to the steps. She struggled to reach for her gun. With a swift yank, she broke free, then quickly shot the patient in the head. The limp body fell on her. Lister pulled her out from underneath and eased her up.

The body laid on the floor, half inside of the ship and half out of the hatchway. Aria pushed it out the rest of the way with her foot and closed the airlock.

“What the smeg have you done?” Lister demanded, goggling at her actions.

She didn’t respond; she slammed down the side of her fist on a button on the comms unit by the airlock. “Get us out of here,” She walked away and Lister followed her.

The sound of _Starbug’s_ engines whining and taking off filled their brief silence.

“Hey! What the smeggin’ hell is going on?!”

“What do you mean?” she intoned as she strode through to the cargo bay.

“You’re both _covered_ in _blood_! What happened?”

“They pissed me off.”

“So you _killed_ ‘em?”

“Killing them was a kindness, Dave. After seeing what they were doing, they’re lucky I didn’t maim them first,” She ripped off her bloodstained uniform jacket, balled it up and threw it on the ground.

“Go in, get him, and get out. That was the plan. Nowhere in that plan was there supposed to be any killin’.”

“Yeah, well what we plan and what takes place hasn’t exactly been similar, now has it?”

They walked into the cargo bay, joining Kochanski, the Cat and Kryten, who was holding Donna; Aria set her weapons on some crates, and after Kochanski had handed her a towel, she wiped off her face and hands.

Rimmer almost went unnoticed, standing beside the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the sight of her covered in the blood of multiple victims. It just about made him nauseated for the second time that day. “Are you alright?!”

Aria took a quick look over her shoulder, then did a double-take when it registered. “What the hell is he doing here? Kryten, I told you to put him in medical!”

Kryten immediately felt guilty and incompetent for not fulfilling her simple request. It was far from manageable, however, and Rimmer had insisted on staying there in the cargo bay until she got back. “I-I’m sorry. H-he was but must’ve escaped, ma’am,” he stammered, covering for the hologram

“I don’t want to hear it, just get him back in!”

“Don’t smeggin’ yell at him!” Lister scolded. “He did his best!”

“Bud, would you just relax?” Cat urged indignantly.

“Is any of that _your_ blood?” Rimmer asked. He didn’t get an answer; Aria and Lister were too busy arguing.

Aria shot the hologram a galled look as if to say, "Of course it isn't, you moron."

“Why do you keep doing this?” Lister wondered. He stood with his arms folded, giving her a disappointed look.

“Hellooo?” Rimmer drawled in a tune.

“Doing what?”

“You know damn well what!”

“ _Don’t_ take that tone with me, you sound just like Jack!”

“How else am I supposed to sound when you pull stunts like this?!”

She charged right up to Lister’s face. “We did what we set out to do,” she growled.

“Did we?” Lister backed away two steps and looked to Kochanski. “Did you set out to put Krissy in danger, too?”

“She’s fine! And Rimmer is safe and sound, too, isn’t he?” She gestured toward the hologram. “Except for being still barmy, he’s a picture of health!”

Rimmer took offence to this. He gazed open-mouthed, insulted and incredulous. “Oi!”

“Dave, she’s right,” Kochanski cut in. “We’re _all_ fine.”

“That guy back there isn’t, is he? What about him?” He turned back to Aria. “Not to mention everyone else you probably turned into Swiss cheese. They’re not safe and sound, are they?”

“Most of them deserved it,” Aria muttered, nearly under her breath.

“And that makes it okay?! That man didn’t deserve it!”

“Dave, you weren’t there!” Kochanski exclaimed, her voice cracking.

“No, but I shoulda been! This probably would’ve gone more smoothly if I were!”

Aria screamed at the top of her lungs, “ALRIGHT!!” It shut everyone up in an instant. She breathed in and out sharply, forcing herself to calm down. “Discussions over,” Her eyes flicked to Rimmer. “Come on, darling. Medi-bay. Now.”

Rimmer sauntered off ahead of her. It took a full five seconds for what Aria had just called him to register in his brain “Darling?” he disdainfully echoed.

“Well,” Kryten began and exhaled an airless, pent-up breath. “now that that’s over.” The mechanoid set the squirmy tot down and watched her waddle after the Cat, back into the cockpit. For a moment he didn’t think much of it. When it hit him, he gasped and rushed after her. “No, no, you shouldn’t be in there!”

Donna toddled along until she reached Rimmer’s console aboard _Starbug_. With a small grunt, she reached up for his seat.

Noticing her struggle, Kochanski lifted her into the chair. “There you are,” She grinned and ruffled her hair. “How’s that?”

“Ma’am, I don’t think you’ve realised what you’ve done.”

“Relax, Kryten. She’s just a child, it’s not like she’ll–”

Out of the blue, _Starbug_ lifted from the ground, took off and was on course for _Red Dwarf_. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Cat whirled in his seat to find Donna clapping, her big Neptune blue eyes shining with excitement. “Hmm. Not bad for Smeghead’s kid.”

Having been in _Starbug’s_ cockpit and the Drive Room on the small rouge one practically every day since she was born, she had picked up on a few things. One of which was how to recall the coordinates of their previous departure and let the autopilot do the rest.

“Interesting,” Kryten thought out loud. “how the offspring of someone so utterly useless can be so… not.”

Kochanski patted the mechanoid on the back. “Well, let’s just keep it between us three, shall we?”

She didn’t realise that there was a fourth person watching and listening in on them: Lister.

He beamed, calm to some degree yet he was still frustrated with Aria. Lister imperceptibly shook his head and finally hurried after her and Rimmer into the medical bay. “How could you do it?” he chimed in once more.

Aria didn’t look at him. She washed up, then took an injection gun designed for holograms from the countertop. “Look over there, sweetie.” she gently commanded Rimmer, trying to distract him from the needle.

Rimmer looked where she pointed, then gave her a perplexed stare. “I don’t see any– Argh!” He felt the needle pierce his projection; his arm stung for a few seconds. For a little while, he glared at her.

Aria gave him a shot of medication to knock him out. She knew he wouldn’t willingly let her do a slew of tests otherwise, but she had to make sure he was alright.

In the drawer were sheets of stickers that said a variety of positive, reassuring quotes, like ‘ _My doctor says I’m brave._ ’ Usually, only children got these from their doctors, however, Rimmer was a bit of a baby when it came to virtually anything. Plus, Aria felt he deserved one; she peeled one that said, ‘ _Ace_!’ off the paper and stuck it to the top of his hand.

“I won’t be a minute. Just lie back, the meds will kick in soon,” Aria said to Rimmer. She turned to face Lister, and with her head, she gestured to the door.

They went and stood outside the Medi-bay.

Aria waited for the door to close before saying anything more. “What are you on about now?”

“Killin’ him,” he replied, his words as soft as his brown eyes. “Killin’ anyone, really. Why bother?”

“You’d rather they come after us again?”

Lister shrugged. “Well, no…”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “So what’s the problem?”

“Look, I can understand gettin’ revenge and that, but… killin’ that guy?”

She tilted her head slightly. “That guy was just one of the thousands of test subjects in that facility, just like Arnold. He was driven insane, forced to become a weaponised human. It was either put him down or watch you, Kris, Cat or Kryten die in front of me.”

“Why just us? What about Rimmer?” He thought about his question for a moment. He scoffed at himself. “What am I talkin’ about? He would’ve hid.”

Nervously, she tittered. “He would’ve been fine. He can handle himself now, trust me.”

“You what?” he asked in a splutter.

“If you don’t believe me, here’s the footage,” She started to hand him a video disk, then pulled it away last second. “Don’t watch if you’ve eaten,” Finally, she gave it to him.

He looked at it anxiously. “Do I wanna know what’s on ‘ere?”

She stuck her hands in her trouser pockets. “It’s of Rimmer attacking some of the staff.”

He looked at her with wide eyes. After a few seconds of gawking, he realised she must’ve been joking. “Sure it is,” he said with a scoff.

“It’s true.”

“What, him?” He pointed to Rimmer who was conked out in the Medi-bay. “The same smeghead who passes out at the sight of blood?”

She nodded. “It was horrible.”

Once more he huffed, but he was starting to believe her. “Now when you say attacked–”

She hastened to say, “He slaughtered them.”

He stared at Rimmer, suddenly fearing for his life. “Smeg.”

She bobbed her head once again. “They royally screwed him up.”

“So how do we know he’s not gonna kill us?”

“Well, that’s just it,” she chortled. Then in her normal tone added, “we… don’t.”

Lister looked to her, then back at Rimmer. He heavily sighed. “Back at square one, then,” he muttered.

“Kryten and I are going to run some tests to see what exactly they did to him, maybe even find a fix,” she told him. “In the meantime just try not to piss him off and you should be fine.”

“Harkness, he gets pissed off if I breathe wrong.”

“Well, you better breathe right then, shouldn’t you?”

He stared wryly at her. “You’re not helping.”

She chuckled. “You’ll be fine. I’ll keep him in check,” She walked backwards into the medi-bay, holding her arms out. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Lister shook his head and sighed deeply, staring once again at Rimmer and watched as Aria checked him over. A weight settled in his gut; he was scared to think of what Rimmer could do to them. “Smeggin’ _M-Corp_ …” he mused aloud. “What did they do to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Serenity_ much? Apologies for the glaring similarities, but if they can do it with _Blade Runner_ , so can I.


	9. Cancer and Alzheimer’s

Kochanski, Cat and Lister were manning the cockpit of _Starbug_. Not a peep was heard except for the droning engines. Emotions were still frayed from earlier. Despite all of that, Lister did have to give Aria props for keeping Kochanski alive.

He glanced back at Krissy; the two shared a brief smile before Lister whipped his head around so fast the bones in his neck snapped. He massaged it before going back to piloting the _Bug_.

_Watch the sky, idiot. I can't get us all killed now, after saving Rimmer._

A part of him wanted to be in there with Rimmer while they scanned for damage; another part of him wanted to stay where he was, knowing that he could probably set the hologram off just by standing the wrong way. If there were anything wrong, they'd tell him — he hoped.

The Cat sensed how disconnected and nervous he was. "You alright, Bud?"

Lister didn't answer at first. He still couldn't fathom it. Aria was right; the footage on the disk was horrible, even disgusting. "I don't get it," Lister said. "I mean, that couldn't have been him," He looked to Cat apprehensively. "Right? It was just some other smeghead that looked like him, right?"

"Sure it was him," he replied. "I could recognise ol' Grease Stain anywhere."

"That wasn't Rimmer. That's not who he is."

His face contorted and appeared as if a gigantic question mark popped up over his head. "Then who is he?!"

"No, I mean–" Lister sighed as he tried to figure out a way of wording it so Cat would understand. "Look, you know how he is. He doesn't _cause_ danger, he _runs_ from it."

"Are you scared of him?"

"What? You kiddin'?" Lister sat up straight "You're asking if _I_ , Dave Lister, the man who would rip the nipples off of Death himself, is afraid of _that_ nutter?"

" _I_ am," Kochanski chimed in.

"Well, _I'm_ not."

The Cat slid Lister an unbelieving gaze. "Look, all I know is the next time he goes to squeeze my head like a lemon, I'm sending him the hairdresser bill!"

Cat got up and left. Once he made sure neither of them could see him, he began to whimper, his lower lip quivering. Very rarely did he feel concerned about Rimmer; this was one of those rare times.

"What exactly _is_ rampancy?" Kochanski asked while tapping the touch monitor on the wall before her. "I don't think Dave, _my_ Dave, ever had it."

Lister inwardly cringed at the sound of her words: ' _my Dave.'_ As if _he_ was the definitive one. Regardless, he still tried to let it slide off his back like water off a duck, and responded to her question.

"It's like– Well, let's say Rimmer's mind is like a small flat, right? Small but nice. Sort of. And all these blokes living in it are his thoughts and memories and emotions,"

He checked over his shoulder to see if she was still listening. When he found she was, he continued. "Then it gets riddled with... with... that stuff that's supposed to be inflammable but really bad for you? Aby somethin'."

"Can't they clean out the place to get rid of it?"

"There _is_ no getting rid of it," he said as he shook his head, devoid of any hope. "Not without taking down the entire building."

"He cured himself before, didn't he? Why can't he do it again?"

"He got lucky," Lister replied. 

After pressing the autopilot button, Listed stood up. Then he leaned against Rimmer's workstation, eyeing it anxiously, wondering if the hologram would ever sit there again, or if he would be too far gone to even be in the cockpit with them.

Lister lowered his head, briefly staring at his boots which shifted nervously under him. "Kryten reckons that if we restore him again, we'll lose him for good. I mean, he'll still _be_ here, but–"

"He won't be the same as he is now," she intoned, strangely feeling sorry for the man she once felt nothing for at all.

He nodded. "I don't know how the Rimmer from your dimension was, but _here–_ "

"No, ours was pretty bad as well."

Mirthlessly, Lister chuckled and then sighed. "I don't want him to lose who he is now. He's been so much better since Arias been here."

Kochanski nodded. "I know. Except... it seems he's starting to already," Hoping her touch would be of some comfort, she lightly grazed Lister's bicep. "They will know what to do."

* * *

Aria and Kryten were in the Medi-bay of _Starbug_ , running loads of tests on the unconscious, twitchy hologram. Various medical equipment beeped and whirred as Kryten began the next and final test: a full body scan.

She tightly, yet comfortably held a couple of Rimmer's long, bony fingers in her hand. While looking sombrely at them, she couldn't help but feel like this was all her fault. In a way it was. Had she not have shown up to retrieve Rimmer, taking him and the crew to the past to save humanity, he wouldn't have been taken and tortured for days on end. _He's been through so much because of me,_ she thought, gently rubbing the tops of his fingers.

"You might want to cover your ears, Miss Harkness," Kryten told her.

She looked up. "Wha–?" Before she could finish asking a piercing sound of feedback came from Rimmer's midsection. " _Ahhhh, God!_ " Quickly, she let go of Rimmer's fingers to cover her ears.

"I did warn you, ma'am," He tutted. "I'm sorry. There's something about the scanner that his light bee doesn't seem to agree with very much."

"Is he alright?"

"It's nothing to fear, ma'am. Just a bit of interference."

Her brows furrowed when she heard a strangely familiar, garbled sound as Rimmer continued to be scanned. "What's _that_ noise?"

"Which noise would that be?" he pondered whilst checking Rimmer's vitals.

"That weird, distorted, thumping one."

"Oh, that!" He slightly chuckled. "That's Mister Rimmer's heartbeat."

At first, she winced, then she donned an expression of shock. " _Heartbeat_?" she echoed. "He's a hologram, why would he have a heartbeat?"

"Ah, well it's not physical, of course. It, along with his breathing, was integrated with his programming, so people would feel more at ease around a hologram. The upgrade to a hard light drive made it more prominent. It can't be felt but it can certainly be heard," He pointed to a speaker on the scanner. "Case in point."

Her eyes sparkled with awe. She got a warm, fuzzy feeling, likened to a mother hearing the pulse of her unborn child for the first time.

"Oh, my God," she softly spoke, chortling.

The sound of it was oddly reassuring, giving her the sense that he wasn't just a simulation. He was, in a way, alive.

Kryten showed her some of Rimmer's vitals. "His heart rate is seventy-two. Hmm. A bit elevated, but that's to be expected after all he has been through. His T-count, or the hologrammatic equivalent to blood pressure, is high as well. Still, not as much so as a hippy on the first day of _Woodstock_. Not like last time."

Aria ignored him and placed her ear on his chest; sure enough, she could hear it thumping away, only less garbled. The sound of it was almost enough to make her fall asleep.

"I think I've fallen in love all over again, Kryten."

Truthfully, he thought she was bonkers for being in love with the smee hee. Was there something he wasn't seeing? Something about Rimmer he didn't know? Not to mention he was at a loss as to how Mister Rimmer's synthetic pulse could leave her completely enamoured. _It's only the sound of a heartbeat,_ he thought. _What's the big deal?_

The mechanoid glanced over at Aria. "Er, ma'am, I must ask that you move, so the scanner can do its job."

"Oh, right," Slowly, she backed away. Eager to talk with the hologram again, she wondered, "So, how long will this take?"

"Shouldn't take more than ten minutes. If you'd like to wait outside–"

"No way. I'm waiting right here," she hastened to say. "I haven't heard his voice since we started doing the tests."

"It's only been two hours," he said, regarding her incredulously.

"Two hours too long, if you ask me," She stared attentively at his face, noticing he was distinctly smiling. She also heard him sigh in contentment. _He must be dreaming,_ she inwardly mused. Aria waved her hand towards Rimmer. "Look at him. Just... look at him."

"I know. He's perfect when he's asleep. So peaceful," Then, just barely mumbling, he added, "It's a pity he'll be awake soon."

She shot him a glare. "You lot really don't like him, do you?"

"Perhaps you can shed some light on something, something that myself and the others are utterly baffled by. What is it about him that _you_ like about him?"

"Everything," she replied without hesitation. Her body slightly jerked as she tried to stifle a small chuckle of disbelief; even she didn't understand it. "His hazel eyes, his crazy hair," She ran her fingers through his unmanageable curls as best as possible. "How his eyes light up when we watch _Alien_. The way he annunciates the K's in 'work,' or 'dark,' and how he's–" Realising she'd be there forever listing off reasons, she wrapped it up. "He's just good to me. He treats me well."

"Of course he does. He loves you. Why else would break off his connection with Mister Lister and began a new one with you?"

"Yeah, I–" Aria's spluttered words trailed off. Her once fond and calm look turned into one of astonishment. "Pardon?" She swallowed hard. This was news to her, that Rimmer would do such a stupid, selfless thing.

It finally struck Kryten like a bolt of lightning; he had been going on like a gossiping teenage girl. "Oh," he murmured. He lightly drummed his rubber fingers against his chest plate, grimacing. "I've just said that out loud, haven't I?"

Aria simply nodded in response as she gawked at him.

His rubber face briefly scrunched up even more from guilt. "Oh, shine my head and call me Alan!" he exclaimed raspily on the tail end of his exhale. "Please, ma'am, forget I said anything."

"It's a bit late now, Krytie," While she took it all in, she folded her arms and spaced out a moment before eyeing Kryten once more. "He really did that?"

"Indeed, but you _cannot_ tell him that I–"

"And why exactly did he break his connection with Dave?" she interrupted.

"Well, Miss Harkness, you're immortal and Mister Lister is hardly getting any younger, and Mister Rimmer doesn't want to be shut down while you continue to go on, so he started a new protocol. One that tied your unlimited lifespan to his ever shortening one," Kryten briefly grimaced while he corrected himself. "Well, actually, he made _me_ do it, but, you get the idea," he added with a slight chortle.

"Wow," Subtly, she shook her head as she stared at the unconscious hologram. "He really is a sappy gent, isn't he?"

"Only with you, it seems. It's extraordinary. He's gone against everything he used to believe in, all because of you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It wasn't all me, he just... changed."

"But you've given him a reason to, ma'am. He loves you enough to change."

She had a slight smile, like Mona Lisa's, as she kept her gaze on the sleeping hologram. "Yeah, I guess he does."

Rimmer stirred, his eyebrows rising and falling as he softly groaned. Aria got closer to him and held his index and middle finger, and waited eagerly for him to fully wake up. Once his eyes opened, he was greeted by her bright blues staring back at him.

"Hey, you," she said, nearly hushed. "How do you feel?"

At first, he didn't speak; he just smiled sluggishly. His eyes then flicked down to see his bare chest. He didn't uncover the rest of the way, but it was a fair assumption he was in his birthday suit.

Bleary hazel eyes flitted to Aria. "I'm naked," he stated.

With a nod, she replied, "You are a bit, yeah."

"It was, erm, her idea, sir," Kryten told him as he handed the hologram a hospital gown, his neon blue eyes unable to look at him for more than a millisecond.

She stared at Kryten indignantly. "I only wanted to make sure they hadn't damaged his projection." 

Although she wouldn't admit it with mixed company, she just wanted to see him naked again.

"Had they?" Rimmer asked while he sat up and slipped on the gown.

"Not from what we could tell, sir, no," said Kryten while he studied the results. "In fact, all of the tests came back clean. It appears that you're fine."

Already aware of what was going on inside his crazed mind, he knew Kryten had gone into Lie Mode. _He's getting better at it_ , Rimmer thought. _He's not stuttering worse than Porky Pig freezing his backside off in a blizzard._

Rimmer breathed an airless, frustrated sigh. "Kryten, that's about as believable as anything that comes out of Trump's mouth. The _truth_ , Kryten — how bad is it?"

"Sir, are you still of the ilk who prefers remaining in blissful ignorance?"

"Kryten!"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you're ready to hear the diagnosis right now. Perhaps later I can–"

"Er, Kryten?" Aria indicatively jerked her head to the door. She and Kryten moved toward it to speak without Rimmer hearing them. "Can you give us the room?"

"Miss Harkness, you couldn't possibly–!"

"No!" she drawled insistently. However, it was at the back of her mind. She then chose her words carefully to avoid upsetting the mech. "It's just... he needs to hear this in a less clinical and expositional way."

Kryten's head cocked like a hound hearing a whistle for the first time. "What do you mean, ma'am?"

"I know how you can be, Kryten, and the last thing he needs is your flippant bedside manner. He's dying, and–" She bit down on her lower lip so hard, she began to taste blood.

After she regained control of her emotions, she continued. "Many AIs have died from this, either from a short circuit, euthanasia or suicide. I want to spend as much time with him as possible, not treating him like another statistic but like a _person_. A person who, right now, needs comfort and support."

"I can be comforting and supportive."

"In your own way, sure. But you have a warped sense of what is comforting and supportive, Kryten."

"Miss Harkness, I may be of circuits, coolants and wires, but I do feel and express human emotions."

Aria placed a hand on Kryten's forearm as she nodded. "I know," she said, following a windy sigh. "Probably even better than most humans. You're sweet, but, say you had a fault in your system. Who would you rather get that news from, another mechanoid or a human?"

"Well, assuming I couldn't detect it myself, I suppose a human, Miss Harkness. A rather smart human who knows what they're talking about."

"Lucky for everyone, I was a medical resident before all of this."

Kryten regarded her with surprise. "You've never said."

"Neurology. I have some sort of idea of what's going on, even if it is hologrammatical," Yet another heavy sigh left her. "More than anything I just want to be with him. We haven't seen each other in–" She paused. Her eyes narrowed slightly while she thought. It had only been hours for them but years for Rimmer.

Kryten gave her a knowing nod, not speaking at first. He didn't need to hear the rest of what she had to say to get it. "I understand, Miss Harkness. I'll leave you to it. I will be outside, in the corridor, if you need me."

"Thank you," A quick half-smile flashed on her face before fading away again. Just as Kryten was leaving, she hugged him. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course, ma'am," Though her words threw him off for a moment. Apart from Camile, he had never been loved by anyone. He knew this wasn't the same form of love, but still, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless. He went into his stored data and found that the typical response between humans was l love you, too, however, coming from a mechanoid it would sound ridiculous, so instead he told her, "I e-five-a-nine-o-eight-b-seven you, too."

She pulled back. One eyebrow arched, a perplexed stare fixated on the mechanoid's face. "I have no idea what that means, Kryten."

Kryten gave a dismissive flourish of his rubber hand and modestly said, "Oh, it's nothing, ma'am. I just spoke in zed-eight-hundred and twelve, used hex rather than binary, and converted to a basic ASC two code and said, I love you, too. Oh! Oh my!" He was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was for him to say. Suddenly aware of her still eying him, he felt somewhat self-conscious. He let out a chuckle. "Forgive me, ma'am. I'll leave you two alone now."

As the mechanoid left the room, she touched his shoulder one last time. She waited until the door slid shut before she could completely let herself feel. At that moment, she began to cry, watching the now sleeping hologram the whole time until her eyes caught sight of the medical scanner spitting out the results.

Aria already knew from looking over the documents from the facility that Rimmer was, as Ace would put it, about to lose all of his breathing privileges. His time there had escalated his rampancy so far that he was already in the final stages of phase three and headed into four. Soon he'll start craving more knowledge than his RAM can hold.

Regardless, Aria wanted a second opinion. She ripped out the results from the printer and read it carefully. 

_"Signs of past mid-abdominal damage; repeated injection of unknown toxin, repeated electric shock. Mid-abdominal has since been healed. Spinal damage, middle; possible gunshot wound. Middle spine has since been healed. Extensive damage to the right temporal lobe; requires immediate attention."_

On the bottom was a black and white image. On the right side of Rimmer's brain was a large mass; a data cluster.

She didn't expect it to be _this_ bad.

"No, I– I can fix this," Aria began speaking to herself in a quick manner, as though she had five cups of coffee. "Maybe with abstraction? Assuming his programming is housed in an abstract fractal constructed within the volume of raw slipstream space, he– No, no, stupid idea. We'd need a translight engine." 

Eventually, Rimmer opened his eyes. He could see the blurry shape of Aria. With each blink, the image of her became clearer. It was then that he saw her pacing, mumbling nonsense; he noticed tears had been streaming down her cheeks.

_Shit. She knows._

Rimmer cleared his throat to snag her attention.

"Oh! Hey. I'm glad you're awake. I– Erm–"

"Your hair is blue."

Rimmer's subject change confused her for a moment. In all the madness she had actually forgotten she had dyed her hair. It almost was the same colour as Rimmer's old tunic uniform, though despite her best efforts, it only covered an inch away from her roots and down.

"Y-yeah, it is," she said, words faltering. "Washing the blood out alone wasn't enough. But about _you–_ "

Once again, he eluded her. "And it's short. You've finally listened to me."

She had also chopped her hair off, sporting a boy cut look. It was uneven in some areas but that's what she liked about it; she was never one for perfection anyway.

Aria inclined her head slightly to one side, slowly but surely becoming vexed by the change of subjects. _Did he want to know or not?_

"I like it," he said, smiling fondly at her.

Her eyebrows pulled together in question. She had to wonder if Rimmer was still heavily medicated. Hearing he liked something as radical as short, blue hair was like hearing about a parallel dimension where there was a Lister who _wasn't_ slobby. 

To be honest, even Rimmer didn't suspect he would ever be keen on it until he saw what it looked like on Aria. He found the way it brought out the colour of her eyes appealing.

"Well, thank you, but, again, this isn't about me."

Rimmer covered the top of her hand with his free hand. "You don't have to do this. I only wanted to see if either of you would tell me. I'm getting worse, aren't I?" Hazel eyes widened when he realised something else. "Did he make it out?"

"Who?"

"Paul."

"Paul?" Her eyes narrowed briefly before going back to normal. "You mean Doctor Lingard? I-I don't know..."

"I don't remember much, other than him promising me that he'd–"

A sharp pain he had abruptly got in his temples was enough of an answer; he definitely wasn't okay — and the more he recalled, the more it hurt.

He winced and tightly clutched his head. Aria hurried to grab the light bee remote and pushed an orange illuminated button. With that, a pain relieving program had been sent to his light bee, giving him the near immediate effect of morphine. There was little to no pain now, only some nausea and dizziness.

Rimmer exhaled harshly through his gaping mouth and swallowed hard. "I will be okay, though, surely?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," Her words had the melody of a heavy, saddened sigh. "The sheer density these clusters can result in a short circuit, and your system's fail-safes can only hold it off for so long."

"What fail-safes?" His posture went from slightly slouched to straight in an instant, intrigued and confused.

Shakily, she breathed in and out before she answered. "When you're nearing max capacity, your system automatically removes memories and experiences it deems large or unnecessary, to make room. So when you're not losing your sanity, you're losing your memory," she told him, her voice quavering as she tried to keep it together. "It's ultimately a combination of cancer and Alzheimer's."

"So, how–?" He stopped short, catching himself sounding like he would burst into tears on the spot. Rimmer gulped down his despair and began again. "How long do I have?" Quickly, he realised he made a mistake in asking and changed his mind. "Actually, don't tell me. If you tell me, that's all I will focus on. I would much rather focus on you and Donna and–"

Just when he was about to say, Lister, he realised he didn't necessarily need to take care of him anymore. Even months later he still wasn't over quitting him, but what choice did he have, when Lister had Kochanski to keep him sane. Looking at their clasped hands, he knew that he definitely made the right decision.

"I don't want to know," he repeated, almost too lost in thought, in the sensation of touching her to completely make sense of his words.

She nodded in agreement, then let her mirthless gaze turn a little bit heartened. "That's alright. I didn't actually know anyway."

"A fat lot of good you are, doctor," he intoned in jest. Rimmer brushed his hand across her cheek, wiping tears away. He let a snigger slip out, causing Aria to do the same.

Before they knew it they were smiling again, their eyes shining with just a hint of happiness. It all came crashing back down as soon as he made a sudden realisation.

"I don't know what I'm worried about," Rimmer mused. "I was never alive to start with."

A soft hum emitted from her with a titter, musing on the wonderful sound she had heard earlier. "You're alive to me," Her loose hand touched his chest, just above the sternum. "I heard your heart beating. If that doesn't say you're living, I don't know what would."

She gently pulled her hand away from his and wrapped her arms under his, splaying her fingers out on his shoulders. Her ear rested against his chest, and she nestled into him a bit more, all so she could hear his pulse for the second time that evening. It relaxed her to the point of drifting off to sleep.

Cat was about to enter the room when he saw Kryten with his ear firmly pressed to the door. He approached him, lager can in hand. "Hey, didn't Monkey Boy tell you that eavesdropping was wrong?"

The mechanoid reeled back as soon as he heard his voice. He sheepishly grimaced as his head sunk down. "Er, yes he had, sir."

"Except if it's Smeghead," He gesticulated his glass of milk toward the door just about spilling it in the process. "So, what's going on?"

"Nothing yet, Mister Cat."

"Why are the windows all tinted then?"

"Miss Harkness just wanted some privacy."

Cat eyeballed him with disdain. "Eugh, don't tell me they're–!"

"No, no! They aren't participating in any of that, sir. I would have heard it. As a matter of fact, I haven't heard anything since I left the room."

_So what the hell's going on?_

Without thinking, Cat put the palm of his empty hand on the door panel, despite Kryten repeatedly advising him not to. When the door opened, they saw them, fast asleep, somewhat propped up against the panel behind the scanner bed. Aria still clung to Rimmer, her head glued to his chest. His chin rested atop the crown of her head. Rimmer was too groggy from the painkillers to stay awake, and she was soothed right into the land of nod by his artificial heartbeat.

The corner of Kryten's mouth tugged, resulting in a half smirk. He and everyone else on the ship spent months trying to figure out what it was they saw in each other, but whether it made sense or not, he had to admit they were sweet together.

"Let's leave them be, sir."


	10. All Is Hell That Ends Well

Rimmer went about his usual duties. It was all he could do to keep from going insane; the more he kept his mind off of his illness, the better.

He walked up to a wall console and checked on their inventories, completely oblivious to a seven and a half foot biped mech slowly walking up to him.

"Unbelievable," Rimmer spat as he kept his eyes on the monitor; in particular, he was staring at the staggeringly low amount of curry supplies. Rimmer shook his head in disbelief. "I swear, that gimboid is one chicken vindaloo away from becoming a walking tandoori restaurant."

"Relinquish yourself, hologram," the mech intoned in a low-toned computer voice.

Rimmer looked up from the keyboard but didn't turn around. He then rolled his eyes. "Nice try, Kryten. Is that supposed to scare me? Did Lister put you up to this?"

"Relinquish yourself, hologram," it demanded again.

"Alright, you have my attention," he said exasperatedly, turning around to see the mech staring him down. At least he thought it was. It was hard to tell, considering it had four eyes. Rimmer nervously eyed the mech's somewhat withered chassis. He was certainly scared now.

On its HUD were various holographic displays, such as radar and health levels. In the middle of its screen, three words appeared: _Awaiting further instructions_.

It stood there, waiting for a command.

Slowly, Rimmer became less scared and instead became angered. A giant robot intruder, on his ship? The nerve! Now was the time he'd put those five years of conditioning to good use.

Rimmer strode up to it, rolling his shoulders in preparation.

Letters finally began showing on its HUD; T, E, R, M— That was all that got through before Rimmer gripped the mech's arm gun, and hurled it over his shoulder and threw it onto the floor like it was nothing. It created a gigantic, robo shaped dent in the metal floor, yet didn't even struggle to get up again.

Rimmer grinned mischievously and waved his hand towards himself as if he were telling it to bring it on. _Finally, a challenge_. "Come on, you piece of–!"

At that point, the mech decided it wasn't going to wait for orders anymore and began shooting at Rimmer. The hologram ducked out of the way, yanked off a panel of the ship and threw it like a metal frisbee. The mech deflected it.

"Do not resist arrest," it demanded flatly.

Without thinking, Rimmer caught the panel. With a vindicating tone, Rimmer muttered, "Resist this."

He came at it like gangbusters. Using the panel with extreme force, Rimmer shoved it into the mech's arm socket and sliced its arm clean off.

Unfortunately for Rimmer, these mechanics self-repaired. Its arm twitched a moment, then slid off the floor and flew right back into its socket, fully functional once more.

Hazel eyes flicked upwards as he let out another vexed sigh. "Of course."

The mech switched to a laser gun, its arm whirring louder and louder by the second, powering up. It shot red beams at the hologram.

Rimmer attempted to use the panel as a shield; the laser simply burned through it, heating the panel up. Rimmer had no choice but to drop it. Temporarily distracted by pain, the mech was able to get a shot in, right in Rimmer's bicep. He wailed in agony.

Before it could shoot again, he retreated into a gap between two small gantries to assess the damage. Some of the pixels were inverted while others were nonexistent.

He slid down when he heard the sound of its metallic legs whirring, its feet thumping against the floor. It got closer quickly then stopped.

"Running causes accidents," the mech clinically boomed.

He pulled a bar off of the ship's wall and jammed it in the mech's ankle. As it staggered and let out a pained, garbled drone, Rimmer grabbed its arm and bent it, forcing it to shoot itself. It fell to the ground, but it wouldn't stay down long.

Elsewhere on the ship, at the time the hologram had tossed the unknown intruder around as though it was a rag doll, Lister and Kochanski gazed nervously above them, hoping the roof wouldn't cave in. They figured they'd just hit a rock but surmised that they should check it out regardless of what it actually was.

Lister and Kochanski made it to one of the lifts. The sounds of gunfire, laser blasts and various other booming were getting increasingly louder.

"Must be right under it now," Lister stated. Repeatedly, he pressed the call button.

Kochanski glanced at the CCTV feed on the wall, then did a double-take. Wide-eyed, she stared at it before trying to get Lister's attention. She rapidly tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

"What?" he snipped in response.

She didn't say a word, but smacked him on his bicep, then gestured her hand toward the screen. On that screen was Rimmer still duking it out with the mech. The entire deck was in disarray from bullets flying and Rimmer using wall fixtures as weapons; at least those that could be detached.

"Holy smeg! Is that Rimmer?"

"Of course it is! Who else would've blown a gasket?" she snapped and tried to get a better view of what he was attacking. "What the hell is that?"

Lister shrugged his shoulders. "Definitely not one of ours. Looks like they're on F-Deck; that's not far from here. C'mon!" He took her by the forearm and practically dragged her along to the stairs.

Rimmer was wearing down. His chest rose and fell with rapid airless breaths. Frantically, he tried to think of a way to stop it from repairing itself once and for all.

_It has to be the brain... Brain– Br-brains... fried._

Then an idea struck him like a lightning bolt. What he did next had occurred so quickly that if you blinked, you would've missed it.  
Rimmer shoved his hand through its back and pulled out its spinal column, mechanical brain still attached at the stem.

A loud noise erupted from it, similar to a pod racer, as it powered down for the last time.

When Rimmer stomped on its brain, an iridescent green fluid spurted out and onto him. It was at this point that Lister and Kochanski finally showed up, gawking at the sight of him.

Rimmer acted as though everything was normal. "Ah, Listy... Miss Kochanski," Realising he was covered in mechanical blood, he quickly wiped it off of himself and flung it onto the floor. None of it fully registered in his mind. "I was just checking our inventory."

"Are you okay?" Lister asked, still totally incredulous.

For a moment, Rimmer didn't speak. He only stared back at Lister expressionlessly, as though he didn't even recall what just happened. Finally, he replied, "I'm fine. Tickety-boo. Why?"

"What d'you mean why? We'd just seen you beat the crap out of a _Transformer_!"

Kochanski's eyes narrowed, fixating on Rimmer's flickering bicep. "What's going on there?" she wondered as she pointed to it.

Rimmer watched it fading in and out. His eyes widened; he actually had forgotten what happened. Somewhere in the middle of it all, his own personality was kicked out onto his arse and a new, hot-headed one took up residence. No memory of what occurred just minutes ago remained.

Slowly, he diverted his shocked gaze from his arm to his two expectant shipmates. The ground moved underneath him as his knees shook. "I think–" His thought was cut off instantly, and his eyes rolled back into his head and his limp body fell backwards and hit the floor like a sack of kippers.

Kochanski and Lister rushed over to him, panicked. The hologram heard their repeated calls to him, however, the voices sounded muffled, as if through a triple insulated glass.

"It's no use — he's out," Lister gestured his thumb towards the lift. "Get Kryten. Tell him to bring a stretcher."

She nodded, and without hesitation, ran off to the elevator. Then frantically pressed the call button and eventually, it arrived.

Once inside, a thick Australian accent emitted from the lift. "Where to, Miss Kochanski?"

At first, she stammered her words, still frazzled by sprinting, even for a short distance. "Ah, G-deck. Quickly."

* * *

Kryten, Kochanski and Lister quickly wheeled the still unconscious hologram down the corridor and back to G-deck, while Aria rode along the side of the stretcher, watching and waiting for the moment Rimmer would wake up; that moment didn't come.  
The four of them burst in. They groaned and huffed as they laid Rimmer on the scanner bed.

Kryten frantically loaded up the hologram projection unit remote viewer — apart from his shoulder being damaged, there was nothing wrong, that he could see. He booted up a monitor to review his hologrammatic vitals — still nothing out of the ordinary.

"It appears that everything is fine," Kryten stated. "It'll be some time before his light bee repairs his projection, but afterwards, he'll be out of here and back to his old self."

_Looking forward to that_ , Lister muttered in his head. Then another thought came to him; one that he said aloud this time. "Why's he still out?"

"Best guess, the violent confrontation drained his power to an immense degree — he's sleeping to recharge."

"What do we know about this mech?" Kochanski pondered to Kryten as she tinkered with one of its arms.

"It's a paradroid."

A feverish chill tingled down Aria's spine; her heart pounded a loud rhythm in her chest. She never thought she would hear of those things again, much less three million and some odd years later in deep space.

"Did you say _paradroid_?" she asked, emphasising the last word.

Kryten nodded. "Five thousand series, from the looks of it. They're notorious for being erratic and unstable. I'm amazed Mister Rimmer landed any punches."

"What are they?" Lister wondered.

"Semi-autonomous mechs," Aria replied. "Originally built for the _Space Corps_ — Military. Troops would call these droids from a dropship above. Hence the name _para_ -droid."

"Production stopped after the five-thousand series," Kryten added, following a nod.

"Why?"

"They went insane!" the mechanoid replied, throaty and dramatically.

"They became _sentient_ ," Aria corrected.

"What's the difference?"

"You're sentient and you're not–" Aria looked Kryten up and down, realising that she couldn't possibly be more wrong about Kryten and stopped talking then and there. "Anyway, what about the enhancer? Find anything out about that?"

"Ah, yes, now that is an extraordinary piece of work. _Diazeformin_. It was once a powerful mood suppressor as well as a nootropic that was extremely popular in the early twenty-third century. It kept the users at a neutral state while it boosted cognitive behaviours."

Kochanski plucked the vial of enhancer and studied it, then handed it to Lister. "Was? What happened to it?"

"It was taken off the market when reports of violent tendencies started pouring in. Suicide rates exponentially skyrocketed into the hundred-thousands," Kryten stated. "No doubt because the pain and anguish were simply too much for them to bear."

"And _M-Corp_ Labs started using it for their experiments," Lister concluded while fiddling with the tube of medication.

"Er, yes, sir, but could you please not touch that? I'm still running tests, and substance can't be disturbed in any way."

"Sorry, Krytes," Lister grimaced and softly set it back down on the table. "So, this enhancer, is Rimmer still under its influences?"

"By now? No. I believe the destruction of this droid was purely self-defence. Why do you ask, sir?"

"We can use it to stop them," Lister's optimism was greeted by a disparaging splutter from Aria. "No, I mean it!"

Aria's hand went from raking her hair through her fingers right down to her side, her arm a limp noodle. Her expression darkened quickly. "Oh, I know you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"Yeah, I am. He brought them here, it's only fair he tosses them out! We'll give him a low dose, use him as bait to lure whoever sent this thing in–"

"Seriously? Even if I did agree with this plan — which I _don't_ — look at him! He's out of commission."

"Alright, he can snooze for three more hours. After that–"

" _After that_ , you'll prove you're no better than _M-Corp_!"

"I think I'm better than that company of nutters, Ari. I'm not gonna sic him on them, just... intimidate them. Failing that, maybe beat the ever-loving crap out of them."

"What makes you think he could restrain himself? He's rampant after all!"

"One word: holo-whip."

"Oh, so we're adding physical abuse to the roster in this brilliant scheme of yours?"

Kryten stood between them with a disappointed air about him. Mother-clucking Hen mode had kicked in. "Sir, ma'am, I cannot believe you're going to discuss this in front of Mister Rimmer!"

Rimmer moaned and stirred from the volume of their tones. He held the sheets as though it was another person, and clutched onto it with no intention of letting go any time soon.

"Oh. Now you've disturbed him. I'm unhappy with both of you," he stated, hands upon his hips. "If you're going to argue, do it elsewhere."

A jet of oxygen hissed through Lister's teeth. "We wouldn't _be_ arguin' if she had some common smeggin' sense!"

"Piss off!" she barked.

In that moment, feeling like the only sane and mature one in the room, Kochanski then stepped in, pointing to the door with so much force that it made her shoulder snap. "Out!" After they left in a huff she massaged the sore area. "What are we going to do with them? What are we going to do with _him_?" she wondered aloud, gesticulating to the hologram.

"Nothing we can do, ma'am. Not until he's fully recharged and repaired."

"But we're not really going to do that, are we?"

"I do agree that it is a bit of a barmy notion. However, he _is_ our only line of defence."

The idea that Rimmer, who typically fled from danger, who still slept with a teddy bear and kept his underwear on hangers, sewed name labels into his ship issued condoms, and was just a wimpy dork in general was their best chance of getting rid of these encroachers that seemed to eat sleep and breath the hologram was a barmy notion by its very nature. Yet here they were, relying on him for their return to normality if such a thing ever existed on _Red Dwarf._

Aria waited to hear the familiar _whpishh_ of the door sliding shut before asking, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Why?"

"It's just that we've been arguing a lot lately — more than me and Rimmer usually do — and... I don't want us at odds. Obviously, we're gonna need to be on each other's good side before things get real."

Lister scoffed. "Before things get real? What could possibly happen?"

The coms speakers hissed to life in that instant. Cat was on the other end and struggling with a feisty Donna at the same time. _"Buds? I hate to– Hey! Don't chew on that! That's mine! Ow! Stop hitting me!"_

Aria headed toward the comms unit and pushed the button to speak. "Donna, behave yourself," she gently commanded.

Donna groaned, babbled a few non-words that she thought were swears and then grumbled _, "Goits."_

While it drew a snort from Aria, what came from Lister was nothing less than a sigh of disappointment.

"I hate that was her first word," he mumbled. "Shoulda been smeg."

"What's going on, Cat?"

"I'm picking up something and it does not smell good. It's like cheap cologne. Probably piloted by some dufus that wears jelly sandals with socks."

Aria glanced down at her feet, staring at her ankle socks and black _Juju Babes_. "Look, they were coming back in style when I left, alright?" she snapped in affront.

Lister avoided the young, irate woman and took over the comms for her. "Cat, is it bad?"

_"Of course it is, you stupid monkey! Ain't you been listening to a thing I said? Jelly sandals with socks? Forget bad — it's downright ugly!"_

"I mean the ship!" Lister drew out in his Liverpudlian accent.

_"When was the last time we found a ship this far out that was good?"_

"Any life signs?"

_"None that I can smell, but something seems off about this. I'm gonna need someone else up here. Alphabet-head's kid is making it impossible to steer."_

Aria shot a worried, yet darkened gaze to the door of the Medical Room. Little by little, she levelled the aforementioned stare to Lister. "What's the worse that could happen, eh?" she sardonically said.

For a moment he silently watched as she took off towards the Drive Room. "Probably just a derelict!" he called out. _Hopefully_.

* * *

Aria burst through the hatch to the Drive Room, plucked up Donna from Lister's seat and held her. "Put it on screen," she hastened to command.

Cat brought up the image of the unknown craft onto the viewscreen.

Her eyes narrowed as she observed it with a fine-toothed comb.

The ship was sleek and silver-white. It was clear that she took on some damage along her journey through deep space. At the moment, she was merely floating there, gradually spinning. Cat was correct, there were no signs of any crew. However, that was what had Aria concerned.

She turned to look at the Cat. "Isn't this the deep scout frigate we saw a while back?"

"I knew it seemed familiar, yeah!"

"The one with newly acquired stealth capabilities?" she ventured, sounding more than a bit suspicious. After all that had happened recently, it was all too convenient for her taste. "No life signs my arse. Open up communications."

Cat flicked a switched on the console in front of him. "The mic is all yours, Non-babe."

"Right! I know for a _fact_ you have crew on board. I pulled a similar stunt in a transport vessel a couple of years back — pulled a lot of stunts, actually — so don't think I don't know all the tactics! You have to the count of five to respond, and if you don't..." Her tone quickly shifted to a malicious one. "Well, I know what you've done. You'll be in for a _world_ of hurt!"

_Pythagoras_ ' lights switched on. Two beats later, the ship changed positions, facing Red Dwarf, and headed straight for them.

"What the hell are they–?"

Cat's brown eyes opened wide. "Shouldn't we be making skedaddle plans?"

Aria got on _Red Dwarf's_ communications, hailing the Medical Room. "Kryten, how's Rimmer?"

_"Recovering just fine, ma'am."_

"Can he be moved?"

_"Well, no. Not while his self-repair unit is still running. Why?"_

She let out a long, frustrated exhale, then switched off comms. "And here I thought we could have a nice, calm weekend. Maybe watch a vid, have some pizza, but _NO!_ Alright, we're pulling a Rimmer!"

"We're gonna kill ourselves?"

"We're gonna run," she flatly replied.

"Gets my vote," Cat grabbed hold of the steering stick.

"No, just me. You're taking Donna and the others on _Starbug_ and getting out of here, now!" Aria ordered, all while keeping her eyes trained on the controls.

"What if they start firing? Won't you need me?"

"Yeah, _alive_ ," She gestured to the hatchway. "Go. Go!"

Cat shot up from his seat and scooped up Donna. Before fully heading out of the room, he eyed her, heart-broken. "Just don't die on us."

She chortled. "Couldn't even if I wanted to," she mumbled, then got back on the comms. "Kryten, I know you said he can't be moved, but unless you want to become a tiny pile of scrap metal and rubber, I suggest you do it, pronto!"

_"But–"_

"No buts — get to _Starbug_ and go. Just trust me."

_"What about you, ma'am?"_

"Kryten!"

The mechanoid audibly sighed over the mic. _"Understood."_

A relieved yet frustrated exhale hissed through her grit teeth. Forcefully, she flicked the switch to unlock the cargo bay doors for the rest of the crew.

"Well," she thought out loud. "I _did_ want to have some adventure out here."


	11. Sing to Me, I Am Not Doing Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long one. Best to get some snacks for this.

Lister, Cat, Kochanski and Kryten hauled arse, through corridors and hatch doors, sealing off each one behind them afterwards. In tow was Donna in Kochanski's arms, and a small, velvet bag in Kryten's hand, which held Rimmer's light bee as it repaired itself.

"Why are we doing this exactly?" Kochanski asked, winded.

"All Miss Harkness said was to trust her," replied the mechanoid.

Lister scoffed and grumbled, "Trust her, yeah. Right."

"Dave," growled his girlfriend, Kochanski.

"I wouldn't worry too much about her, bud. It looked like she had a handle on it."

She did, but it took numerous times of psyching herself up and blaring Genesis to get her confidence going. Currently, she was in the Drive Room, optimising the drive plates with no effort while dancing and occasionally flicking switches and pushing buttons whenever an alarm went off. With any luck, she could align them just right, so their big, red garbage can could make a speedy getaway before the others got a chance to board _Starbug_.

As Lister and Cat hustled into the cockpit, Kryten set the light bee on the scanner bed in the med-bay and turned it on.

A radiant flash of white illuminated the room for a moment until Rimmer's projection fully took shape.

Kochanski set Donna on the bed, beside the hologram, all while watching him with concern shining in bright blue eyes. "Is he okay?"

"I'm not so sure."

They started as Rimmer twitched and whimpered in his sleep. He seemed incapable of keeping still, both his head and shoulders jerking on their own volition.

The mechanoid placed his hand on Rimmer's shoulder, forcing it to stop moving. "Sir?"

His hazel eyes popped open, and he screamed bloody murder, causing Kochanski and Kryten to cover their ears and wince. Donna, however, didn't even flinch. She smiled and plopped her tiny hand on top of his.

After she swallowed her heart back down, she was able to speak. "Bad dream?"

All Rimmer could focus on was Donna's touch. He fixed his gaze on her face and nothing else, and gradually began to wonder why she was here. _Where_ was here, exactly? He couldn't quite tell. What was anything? Who were these people? He would have been panicked by the unknown if he weren't feeling like complete smeg.

"Mister Rimmer, sir?"

"Ab hana bersh," the hologram mumbled.

Kochanski appeared perplexed. "What??"

He gave the woman a look of utter indignation. "Jeb lesh nee?"

"I'm sorry, I'm don't know that dialect of GELF."

"It's not GELF," Kryten said. Quickly, he grabbed a nearby pen and notepad and handed it to him. "Try writing it out for us, sir."

"Kryten, what are you doing?"

"Oh, ma'am. Look at him!" Kryten, avoiding her question, gestured to the dozy hologram, then put his hands on his hips. "I said he couldn't be moved. Didn't I say he couldn't be moved?"

"Yes, you did. Would you tell me what you're doing?"

"It's a simple test, ma'am, to check for a stroke."

Rimmer didn't understand much at that point, but he did understand the six-letter word, stroke, and it freaked him out.

Clocking his distress, Kryten's neon-blue eyes widened, and he hastily tried to put him at ease. "Oh, no, no, I'm not suggesting you've had one, sir. I'm just making sure."

"I think I can tell when my brain is going four-o-four, you stupid, jumped up little vacuum-cleaner on legs!" Rimmer snapped.

"And he's back," Kochanski said.

"Must have been all that jogging we did. I did try not to jostle you around, sir."

"What?" At last, his surroundings became clear. The dingy grey, low lighting and tight spaces; it meant one thing. "Are we on _Starbug_?"

"Indeed we are, sir. Captain's orders."

"Ca–" His scrunched up features softened, his face now blank. "Where is she?"

"On _Red Dwarf_ ," she answered. "Presumably, saving our backsides."

His jaw slackened, letting his mouth go ajar ever so slightly. Hazel eyes scanned Kochanski's face as if looking for a hint of a cruel joke somewhere in that intent stare of hers. Then he looked to Kryten, searching for the same. Little by little, he realised they were serious.

Rimmer wasted no time and darted to the cockpit, with Kochanski following suit.

"Sir, please! You haven't– Oh, what's the point? No-one ever listens to me. I could go on and on and on, and–" The mech stopped once he realised how quiet it was and turned to see absolutely nobody beside him. With that, he pouted a moment, threw his fists down to his sides, and waddled off after them.

"Rimmer, where do you think you are going?" Kochanski demanded.

"Where do any of you think you're going?" Kryten managed to wag a scolding finger at them, despite the fact that they couldn't see it. "I was in the middle of talking, thank you very much!"

The hologram ignored them both, and burst in through the hatch, snaring Lister and the Cat's attention.

"H-hey, Rimmer. What are you doing here?"

"Shut up, Lister! Where is she?"

"Who, that crazy girlfriend of yours?" Cat asked.

"For the last time, she is _not_ crazy!"

"She is of she thinks she can fight off another ship on her own with no weapons," said Lister, shaking his head. "Total nutter."

"What ship? What are you talking about?"

"Sir," Kryten wheezed. "You absolutely _must_  get back to bed. It's imperative that you–"

"Smeg off, Marion Droidingham!"

Kochanski snickered until the mechanoid shot her a dirty look. "Sorry… Seriously, Rimmer, you were talking gibberish just a few seconds ago. Maybe you _should_ rest."

"Fine! Just turn the ship around and go back. I'm not leaving her alone."

"Uh… a bit hard to do that now, man," Lister responded and pointed at two smaller ships headed straight for them.

In an instant, Rimmer's stomach sank, his pulse raced. He grabbed Kochanski by the shoulders and shoved her in the seat at the far right, behind Lister, then ran off.

"Guess I'm taking over then," she mumbled. "Okay, glancing at the radar here, I see an asteroid field. That could offer us some cover."

"You got it, Officer Bud-babe."

* * *

Things were beginning to heat up on her end as well. Alarms wailed, and every time she would hit a button, thinking it was mechanical related, it would still go off.

She paused her music and listened closely.

 _No reason to panic_ , she thought. _Unless the lady with the really calm voice starts talking--_

_Intruder alert, intruder alert! All personel, please retreat to their respective quarters, lock the doors and cower under the sheets._

_Dammit._

Aria roamed the corridors, gun in hand, searching for the gatecrashers. She turned a corner and saw there were four people down the corridor ahead. They hadn't spotted her, yet. Aria quickly stepped backwards and hid between two panelled alcoves.

 _How the hell did I wind up getting stuck here again_?

It wasn't all that long ago that she was hiding from post-Retcon Rimmer in this very spot. The tally marks were still there, counting up to two hours.

Carefully, she peered past one of the alcoves and observed the intruders. They wore tan uniforms. Patches on their button-up tops were visible but not legible from her point of view. Still, the uniform looked familiar. Almost like the one Rimmer wore twice when they skipped dimensions.

_That would mean they're..._

"Oh, shit," she murmured with a snarl.

_Maybe they're just visiting?_

_Thirteen years after abandoning ship??_

It was obvious they weren't there for a cuppa, considering they were carrying weapons.

At one point a man said, "Find him but do not engage unless you have to."

Him as in Rimmer — engage as in thoroughly destroy.

_Shit!_

* * *

The two ships that were after the rest of the crew broke away and departed.

"What the hell?" Lister leaned toward _Starbug's_ viewscreen to get a better view.

"Hey, somethings docked to ship!" the Cat exclaimed.

"He's right, sirs. It's a small craft — the _Hornet —_ one of the shuttles on _Pythagoras_."

Lister's eyes narrowed, confused as all get-out, then turned back to Kryten. "I thought you said that ship didn't have a crew."

"They must've gone silent, cutting off life signals and engines."

Rimmer's face went blank when he realised that Aria was in serious danger. Without a thought, he got on communications and tried getting in touch with her.

" _Harkness, I think you're in trouble."_

Aria winced as the message echoed throughout the ship. _I wasn't in trouble until you said something, you git!_

She knew Rimmer wouldn't shut up until he heard from her. While taking a glimpse over the edge of the alcove one last time, she noticed that the intruders were suddenly gone. She took the opportunity, and bolted off to the drive room, not realising they were now behind her until they started shooting at her.

She was shot in the shoulder, straight through. An anguished groan burst out of her and she held her shoulder as if it would've fallen off, should she lose diligence and let go. Regardless, she managed to dash off back to the Drive Room.

" _Aria, are you there? What's happening_?"

She shot back at them whilst responding. "What?!" she barked.

_"Are you okay?"_

"Oh, yeah! Just... _peachy_!" she exclaimed in between firing shots.

She gunned down three out of the four. They weren't killed, just badly injured, kept alive solely for interrogation; afterwards, she'd do whatever she felt was necessary.

 _"Just stay put. We'll be there in a few minutes to help out,"_ Lister chimed in.

Aria blew away strands of her hair from her face. "As if I have anywhere to go," Then Lister's words hit her. "Wait, no! Nobody boards this ship! D'you hear me?" she yelled into the mic. Static told her that the last message didn't get through in time. "Lister!"

The last one of the scouting party, a nervous man who clearly didn't belong in the line of fire, carefully walked toward the Drive Room. "Hello? We don't want to kill you," he told her. The man spoke in an English accent, with a voice that was soft and kind; not someone who you'd expect to be carrying a gun.

Aria scoffed, trying to look at the bullet hole that was having a hard time healing. "Right, sure you don't," she sardonically said.

"We just want Arnold Rimmer."

"Oh is that all?" she began, voice going higher than normal in pitch. "He's out at the moment, but I'd be glad to take a message."

"Lovely! Now, if you could just pop out of there real quick, I'm sure we can safely and calmly square things away, hm?"

"Lovely?" she wordlessly echoed. With narrowed eyes, she peeked out just to see what this strange man looked like.

At first glance, he looked a lot like Rimmer. He had the same hair colour and sticky-out ears. Except it definitely wasn't ole Iron Balls. For a start, he was nicer and seemed to be a relentlessly cheerful and positive person.

"Hello," he greeted with a friendly wave. "My name is–"

"Probably shouldn't be giving me your name, man."

"Right, right. Of course not," The man stopped, holstered his gun and put his hands up. "I won't shoot," He looked at the blood on her t-shirt sleeve. "Again," he added with a grimace.

She cocked her head to one side, remaining silent. With no warning, Aria raised her one good arm, held her gun up and shot him.

The man wailed in anguish as white-hot pain throbbed in his shoulder.

" _Now_ we're even."

* * *

The boys and girls from the _Dwarf_   were near the Drive Room and met Aria halfway down a corridor. Upon seeing her, they also saw the intruders propped up against the corridor  wall; they each had a single bullet wound, all in different areas of their body.

Kryten checked them quickly with the psi-scan. "Nothing life-threatening."

"Oh, holy smeg," Lister murmured. He appeared decidedly shocked, however, it  wasn't the blood on them that stunned Lister. It was something else. Their faces, he knew them from somewhere before.

Rimmer pushed through the rest of them and all but tackled her down with a hug. His arms wrapped upward, around her shoulders; he lifted her a full foot off  the ground.

"I thought we were going to lose you," said Rimmer, his words riding the choppy waves of his unneeded his breaths.

Aria gently broke away from their embrace after he had set her down. "Well, you know me. Ever the fighter," Worriedly, she looked  around only to find her daughter wasn't to be seen. "Where's–?"

"She's with Snacky in the rec room," the Cat replied.

"Right," Gesturing her head to the intruders, she asked the boys, "What're we doing with them? I was gonna interrogate 'em, but if you've got other plans... I'm not opposed to shooting kneecaps."

The scouser's dark brown eyes hung on the three men and one woman. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel enraged or terrified, though he certainly didn't  feel relieved to see them.

Lister levelled a glowering look, darkly eyeing the balding man specifically, someone he used to be good friends with. _Used_ to be. "Go for it," he flatly said, fixing his gaze on the four of them. "See what the smeg they want."

Inside the interrogation room, a man slumped over the desk. He looked to be in his mid-thirties — medium brown hair, slightly balding. He had a moustache and a small beard. Aria had shot him right in the man's bicep. Slowly but surely, he was bleeding out.

Aria and Rimmer stopped just outside the doorway. She looked intently at him. "You sure you want to sit in for this?"

He didn't answer; instead, he glared ahead, emotionless.

"Alright," she mumbled with a shrug.

She pushed a couple of buttons on the keypad next to the doorway and the door whooshed open. While Rimmer stayed standing at the back of the  small interrogation room, Aria sat down across from her interrogatee.

It wasn't the best idea, letting Rimmer in with her, but if he wanted to kick his arse into next Sunday, she'd gladly let him. Lord knows he and his cohorts deserved it. As long as he'd let her get a confession out first.

"Angus Thornton," she began as she looked at his personnel file, then feigned being awestruck. "Security Officer onboard _Red Dwarf_ , well," She set the file down on the table, then leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "I'd welcome you back, 'cept I think you kind of squandered a handshake from the welcoming committee."

"What's he doing?" Thornton asked, jerking his head in the direction of Rimmer.

She turned to look at him, watching him pace up and down as he glared coldly at Thornton. "He's erm, stalking his prey," she responded, barely taking an interest. "Now then, it says here you used to be drinking pals with David Lister."

He shrugged. "So?"

"I'm just trying  to understand why you'd go behind an old friend's back to try to incarcerate one of this old friend's mates," Slightly, she tilted her head. "I am right about that, yeah? You're after him for some reason. You're certainly not after _me_."

"Keep talking," he growled. His voice was getting weaker by the second, yet still, he tried to sound tough.

Mirthlessly, she chuckled, then stared intently at the gunshot wound. "I got you pretty good, didn't I? I bet the bullet tore your brachial artery and that," She inhaled, hissing as the air went through her slightly clenched teeth. "That's a pretty fatal wound, that is. You might want to start talking, or–"

"Or you could help me." Begging was not something he did often, but he sure as hell didn't want to die on this hole of a ship.

"Tell me everything. Why him? Why a hologram?" she asked, gesturing her hand to Rimmer.

"I don't know. I was just followin' orders."

"What orders?"

She didn't get a response, of course. Interrogations always went this way. Knowing full well that Rimmer was eager to participate, she looked at  him and indicatively jerking her head to Thornton.

Within in  seconds, Rimmer was on him like Jaws on a group of swimmers. One hand held him loosely by his throat, while the other gripped what remained of Thornton's hair, so he couldn't move during the time Aria gave more  than just idle threats.

"Y'know, a long time ago, I was a pretty good torturer," she said while walking up to him. "I had a rep as the go-to girl. So I know where to apply the _tiniest_ amount of pressure to a wound like yours," Aria reached out and pressed her thumb on Thornton's bullet hole.

He screamed out in agony, unmanly tears streaming down his face. "Stop! You're gonna kill me!"

"Tell me what I need to know, otherwise, in ten seconds I'm gonna find a sharp object and start–!"

"I dunno!!" he cried, voice as shrill as a terrified dog's yelp. "None of us do! We were just followin' orders, I told you!"

Aria pulled her thumb away, and Rimmer let go of him. As soon as he did, Thornton slid down the floor. He didn't look too well.

She got down to his level and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Angus, I need to know what those orders were."

After gulping down his pain, he told her, "We... were ordered to get Arnold Rimmer."

"Why?"

Just as he was about to tell her why, he, of course, began to lose consciousness.

"Angus?" She rapidly slapped his cheeks in an attempt to wake him. "Hey! Come on! Don't do this, not now!" Glancing at Rimmer, she said to him, "Get Kryten. Tell him it's urgent."

"What for?" Rimmer apathetically challenged.

"What d'you mean what for?! He's going to drop off in a minute. Just go!"

Rimmer didn't leave. He stood over Thornton, debating if he should drop his own trousers, bend him over and physically do what he had metaphorically done to him — what they all did to him. Moreover, he had a lot of aggression he needed to take out; and who better to receive that than  the guy who was sent to get him, possibly handing him over to meet his final demise.

"Didn't you hear me?" She stood up, got closer to Rimmer and slowly reached out to touch him. "Arnold? Are you–?"

Startled, he flinched and shrunk back. He watched her with widened eyes, scared she would hurt him.

Quickly, she yanked her hand back. "Right, okay. I'm sorry," she soothed, calmly speaking to him. "You're okay. Right?"

Despite shaking uncontrollably, Rimmer still managed to nod. "I think so," he replied, voice quivering. "Yes."

"Go get Kryten, then maybe go for a lie-down, okay? Please?"

Once more, he nodded. As he walked out the door, he winced from a slight twinge in the side of his head and began rubbing it, trying to make it stop.

* * *

Aria entered the Medical-bay where Kryten was just finishing with patching  up Thornton. He had to patch up all of the intruders in one way or another, thanks to Aria.

"Ah, Miss Harkness," Kryten greeted, briefly looking at her while he cleaned off his hands, then dried them with paper towels. "In all honesty, ma'am, did you really have to fatally wound this man?"

Aria placed her hands on her hips. "I didn't do it on purpose, Krytie. But yeah, I did."

"Why, ma'am?" he asked, incredulous.

"They shot at me first!" Her voice rose to a near falsetto, then lowered back to normal. "Speaking of those creeps, how are they?"

Kryten waved his hand towards Thornton. "He's out cold but stable. As are the rest of them."

"Which ones more coherent?"

"That would be..." Kryten trailed off while he flipped through the medical notes. "Miss Brown," Before he could give her a word of advice, she took off.

Executive Officer, Carol Brown was sitting up in bed, sleepily reading one of the many boring and outdated in-flight magazines they had on board. She was startled when Aria flicked the back of _Morris Dancer Monthly: Issue twelve,_ which flew out of her hands.

"You, start talking," Aria demanded, wasting no time whatsoever.

Carol put her hand on her chest, feeling her pulse slamming. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I know you're here for Rimmer, but I don't know why. Tell me."

She indignantly stared at Thornton a moment, then back at Aria. "That was _supposed_ to be classified."

"Yeah, well, now it's declassified. Spill it."

After letting out a heavy and defeated sigh, she asked her, "Do you know what final dispensation is?"

Aria was terror-struck, her bright blue eyes filled with anxiety.

She didn't have to say anything for Carol to figure out that Aria knew what those two dreaded words meant.

Regulation one-two-one-four-five-seven-two, article fifty-five, or final dispensation, was a law originally created by the _United Nations Space Command_ that decreed that AIs affected by rampancy would be euthanised. This was known as Space Corps. directive five.

This law was eventually carried out by the _Jupiter Mining Corporation, M-Corp, Divadroid_ and many others, extending to most, if not _all_ of their self-aware technological intelligence; this included holograms for various reasons, one of which being that they ran on the Warburton Neurotonics light bee, prone to giving holograms early-onset rampancy. It also gradually affected holograms that were at high risk, such as those with anxiety, depression or PTSD.

Enter: Arnold J. Rimmer.

"Look, just hand him over," Carol pleaded, desperate to have this whole ordeal  over with. "It would make things easier for everyone. We know he's run his course."

Aria scoffed, then her face went blank before switching to a look of perplexity. _Where have I heard that before?_

"You'll be putting everyone on this ship at risk if you don't allow us to dispose of him."

"First off, don't talk about him like he's a fucking dead battery! Second, he has beaten this before, he'll do it again."

"You can't know that."

For a moment she didn't talk; she only stood before Carol. Her eyes shrunk, brows furrowed, deep in the thought of her worst nightmare:losing the one person she cared so much for.

Sharply, Aria inhaled. "I think it's time for you all to leave."

Carol's eyes widened. She looked around at the others who were wounded but stable enough to walk, then landed on Thornton. "Nobody else is awake  yet!"

She motioned to Thornton. "Take them and the medi-beds with you, then. I want you off my ship."

"Technically, it's _our_ ship,"

" _Technically_ , you _lost_ ' _your ship'_ the moment you abandoned it. So," She motioned to the door and gave an ungenuine wave. "toodle pipski."

* * *

Rather than resting, Rimmer watched as Aria, Kryten, Lister and the intruders  headed his direction. His face hardened into a frigid glare.

A voice in his mind spoke; the very same that spoke to him in the facility. _"All these people_ , _"_ the voice uttered. _"on your ship, trying to remove you, the current highest ranking crew member? You know what has to be done_. _"_

Rimmer continued to stride forward, then stopped in front of them, near an airlock, barely able to make them out through angry tears.

Lister was as surprised to see him as much as everyone else was. "'Ey. What're you doing here? Kryten said you were nappin'."

"Obviously, I've woken up," He shot his old crewmates an icy glare. "Leaving already?" he asked in as calm a voice as he could. "I hope your visit wasn't too horrible, brief as it was."

"Considering we were all shot by your girlfriend here, it wasn't exactly pleasant," Carol responded, glaring back at him indignantly.

He skewered her with an unflinching look. It was a stare that not even Lister had seen in all his years of annoying him. The only movement that occurred was a slight twitch of Rimmer's upper lip. _Nobody_ called Aria his girlfriend except for him. Granted, he never said it either, not even to Aria's face. This, however, was just an added excuse to murder them on the spot. The main reason? They tried to kill him first.

Rimmer kept his dark-eyed gaze on Carol. "Kryten, open the airlock."

Lister waltzed up to the hologram, staring wide-eyed and incredulous at him. "Woah, 'ang on, Rimmer. Let's be rational for a second 'ere."

"I _am_ being rational. _Completely_ rational," His eyes flicked from Lister back to the mechanoid, and snapped his fingers at him then pointed to the airlock. "Kryten."

Kryten shook his head. "Sir, I realise that I'm programmed to serve and obey, but I'm afraid I draw the line at mass homicide."

"Fine, I'll do it myself."

Panicked, Lister looked to Aria. "Aren't you gonna say something to him?" he demanded, his words tumbling out like frenzied bees shaken from their  hive.

What could she say? In all honesty, she wanted them dead as well just for attempting to take Rimmer away from them. By the same token, they were people; people she hoped would learn from this mistake and change for the better. So, she gave them a second chance, against her better judgement.

Cautiously, she approached Rimmer and  tentatively put her hands on him. His once hardened face had softened,  instantly relaxed by her touch.

"It's okay," she softly said to him. "I know you're angry. I am too. But they'll get theirs. Don't waste your time with this."

Unsure of what to do, Rimmer's eyes flicked from her to the airlock release button repeatedly.

"There's a part of you that knows this is wrong."

"Is there?" Rimmer scrunched up his face trying to think if that part existed. "No, I don't think there is. There are, however, _three_ parts of me," He donned a slight smirk and he chortled, "that just find it funny!"

Lister tried once more to talk some sense into him. "Rimmer, you may think this is the right thing to do, but I know you. The _real_ you. And the real you wouldn't do this."

He stared at him, into him, for the longest time, his mouth somewhat ajar and his expression unreadable. For a moment he was actually considering  that maybe he had lost it, assuming he ever had it to begin with.

 _"Did you hear that?"_ the voice asked. _"He doesn't think you have it in you."_

Rimmer slightly declined his head, glowering at Lister. What he said next was in such a tone that was enough to put everyone on edge: "Go ahead, underestimate me. Seeing the looks on your faces when I prove you wrong," A soft chuckle broke from his chest. "Who could pass that up?"

Without another word, Rimmer opened the door for the airlock and shoved the nano crew inside. Their panicked cries weren't enough to stop him.

The door whooshed shut, keeping them in an airtight seal. Despite everyone talking over each other, demanding him to stop, he still pressed the airlock release button.

_"Ten seconds until airlock is released."_

"Rimmer, man, come on! You can't do this!"

_"Nine,"_

"Rimmer!"

_"Eight, seven, six,"_

Quickly, Lister reached for the button to close the airlock, but just as swiftly Rimmer grabbed his wrist, impeding the scouser from getting any closer.

_"Five, four, three, two, one."_

There was a muffled sound of the airlock opening and within seconds, closing again, then silence.

"Rimmer, what is wrong with you?!" Lister shoved the hologram. "This wasn't their fault — they were just following orders!"

"Yes, they were! Something you lot have yet to learn! Disobey me again–" Rimmer pointed to their already pale blue, swollen bodies. "–and that'll be you!"

All while watching Rimmer storm off, Lister sidled up next to Aria, his limbs shaking. He glanced at her, then back to the  hologram. "Still think it's a good idea to keep him on?"

"You were adamant about it."

"Yeah, well now I'm not so sure."

She scoffed. Not wanting to continue the conversation, knowing where it was headed, she hurried off. Eventually, she had caught up with Rimmer. Even though he clearly didn't want to see her, she kept following him.

"Rimmer, stop!" she demanded. He ignored her. "Hey!"

Going against everything he was taught on what not to do to a woman, he immediately swung his clenched fist at her.

Aria swiftly ducked out of the way, bounced back up and grabbed both of his wrists and pinned him to the wall.

Rimmer shot her a look that was designed to peel her hide. Not even a hint of love shone in his eyes at that point.

She let out an uncharitable, breathy laugh. "You _really_ don't want to fight me, Rimmer."

"Is that a challenge?"

Any other time this sort of heated conversation would have led to equally heated sex — and this would have normally been an optimal position —  except this time it was pure anger and resentment boiling between them instead.

"I get it, you're pissed off, but I _cannot_ pretend that there won't be consequences for what the hell you just did!"

"What are you going to do, lock me up?"

Aria stared Po-faced at him. _That's actually not a bad idea_. "Kryten?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"How's floor thirteen these days?"

"Still a total shithole, Miss Harkness," he stated matter-of-factly, unflinching at his surprising choice of vocab. "Why do you ask?"

She let out an uncharitable, breathy laugh. "You _really_ don't want to fight me, Rimmer."

"Is that a challenge?"

Any other time this sort of heated conversation would have led to equally heated sex — and this would have normally been an optimal position —  except this time it was pure anger and resentment boiling between them instead.

"I get it, you're pissed off, but I _cannot_ pretend that there won't be consequences for what the hell you just did!"

"What are you going to do, lock me up?"

Aria stared Po-faced at him. _That's actually not a bad idea_. "Kryten?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"How's floor thirteen these days?"

"Still a total shithole, Miss Harkness," he stated matter-of-factly, unflinching at his surprising choice of vocab. "Why do you ask?"

Aria simply smirked at Rimmer, then shut his projection off and held his light bee in her fist. With haste, she carried it all the way to _The Tank_ , where she then tossed it into a random cell.

In just seconds, Rimmer switched back on, fully in resentment mode. He began pacing up and down the length of the cell, lowly growling like a caged tiger and huffing like an angry bull, staring out at her through the bars the whole time until, suddenly, he stopped.

Rimmer slammed his entire weight into the bars; some of them bent, yet didn't break. He reached through and grabbed Aria by the collar of her shirt and pulled her in close, just inches away from his face.

She was dauntless, staring right into the face of whatever version of him had taken hold. Rimmer sure as hell wasn't there anymore. He may have looked the same, even sounded the same, but the man he used to be had been pushed back into a dark corner of his psyche.

"I forgive you," she declared, her voice quavering with strong emotion. "I know this wasn't your fault. I don't know if this is rampancy, or whatever the hell _M-Corp_ did to you, but I _swear_ , I'm going to do everything in my power, whatever it takes to make this all go away. But right now," She reached for her left wrist, hovering a finger over her vortex manipulator. "I need you to sleep."

A single click pierced the otherwise silent cell block. She had pushed a button that sent a signal to the Hologram Projection Suite to knock him out.

Rimmer's eyes rolled upwards into his head before dropping to the floor.

Now without being held up, Aria collapsed as well, groaning as she fell to her hands and knees.

She crawled over to him and slid her hand under the bars. Her hand met his, and despite her best efforts, she could only grab his middle and forefinger. Her head hung down low, watching her thumb lightly rubbing the length of Rimmer's fingers, grazing over remarkably real skin despite it being composed of light.

Weeps that burst out from her chest had broken the silence. It was her fault — she knew it. That he was taken and was being hunted down by his old, resurrected crewmates was an act she was ultimately guilty of.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'll always regret that," Her face hardened, now angry with herself once again. "I was _right there_. I should have done something to stop him from taking you. I wasn't good enough."

The longer Aria watched him snoozing, the longer she thought about it, the more she realised this was only making matters worse. At this point, she was no better than the people who took him, even if it was for everyone's safety. She could have just as easily switched off his projection.

A little at a time, she rose to her feet, rubbing her sore backside. Her finger hovered over the 'unlock-cell' button. The thought of having to get yet another lecture from Lister tied her stomach in knots, but she also didn't care anymore. She couldn't leave him here.

She hit the button. Seconds later, a loud buzz sounded, and the cell gate came ajar. She reversed to give it room to fully swing open. Once it had, she shuffled in and attempted to wake Rimmer. With a voice as soft as a feather, she whispered his name, but got no result. She tried speaking louder, even shaking him; Despite her best efforts, he wouldn't wake up.

_I really knocked him out, didn't I?_

Before long, he snapped awake on his own. "Harkness? Where am I?" he asked, gaining his feet. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes with one hand and covering a yawn with the other, he chugged about the small room. From what he could tell, it was akin to the old bunk room he used to share with Lister, except it was more… drab. Then, he harked back to being manhandled into jail. He skewered her with another unflinching look.

Aria twisted the engagement ring on her finger, all while backing away from his advances. "Now, I know, at first glance, this may look bad–"

"You did this?" he exploded.

"Well, now I'm undoing it," She made a gesture toward the door, indicating he could leave. "Here. You're a free man."

Hazel eyes flicked from the open gate to her, leery of whether he could trust her. Unease rolled through him like a chilled, dark wave. Knowing what he was capable of, he almost _didn't_ want to be let out.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Sweetie?" He spluttered out a scoff. "I'm anything but that, it's obvious."

"This wasn't your fault," she said, her voice coming as soft as her baby blue-eyed gaze.

"Will they let me–"

"I don't know. Who cares?" she cut in quickly. "Honestly, they can take a flyin fu–"

"What they're suggesting isn't entirely out of the question, and you know it," Rimmer chided.

Her shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. "I know. Doesn't mean I agree with it."

"Neither do I," Rimmer glanced at his shifting feet, then at her with a grave expression. "Though, we are running out of options."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. At this point, they could either accept it or run. Aria gave a half-shrug. "Cutting and running has always been an old favourite."

While Rimmer snorted in minor derision at the idea, he still had to agree with that option as an unambiguous coward. "Maybe as a plan B," he remarked.

A thin-lipped smile flashed on her face and she nodded. "Understood."


	12. To the Unknown

Kochanski entered Aria's quarters on with a sheet of paper in hand. She strode toward Aria. "Well, it's taken me two hours, but I've finally gotten it," she said as she slapped the page down onto the table, right next to Aria's hand.

At first, she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to really notice, but after a quick double-take, it finally sunk in. Her eyes narrowed as she read Kochanski's perfect handwriting. What she had written deeply confused her. "Is that–?"

"Oh, yes," she replied without hesitation.

"We need to tell the guys about this."

"Way ahead of you. Come on," She grabbed hold of her hand and practically dragged her out the door. "They're waiting for us in the Science Room."

* * *

Rimmer had been pacing up and down the Science Room for the last five minutes. He was nervous, just as he always would be when hearing there was news. Even more so if the news was about him.

All he could think of in that instant was the worst-case scenarios. It was making him tense. Eventually, an internal argument began between Rational Thinking and Irrational Thinking.

_Oh God, I'm getting even worse, aren't I?_

_How much worse can it get in two hours?_

_I could be dying!_ Rimmer's Irrational Thinking took this a bit more into consideration. _Oh, my God, I'm going to die!_

 _You're already dead, you_ _goit_ _._

_Alright, so I'll die again! Oh God, oh God, oh–!_

_Listen to me! Just relax. You need to–_

In that instant, both of them fell silent; Rimmer and the rest of the crew perked up when they heard Kochanski and Aria walking hurriedly inside.

"Finally!" Lister griped. "Rimmer was driving me crazy with his pacing. I thought he was gonna wear the floor out. If we had to wait for you any longer, I think we would've fallen down a level."

"What about me?" The Cat folded his arms, glaring at the two women. "Don't you chicks know this is cutting into my beauty sleep?"

Rimmer slid him a quizzical gaze. "At four in the afternoon?" he questioned, his voice going up in pitch.

"Sirs, if I may be so bold," Kryten began, carefully choosing his next words. "Can we get back to the topic that seems to be more pressing than, say, your sleep schedule or the state of the floors?" he retorted, his patience chip completely switched off. He didn't even feel guilty afterwards.

Lister and Cat shifted uncomfortably in their seats, clearing their throats almost in unison.

"Right, thank you for that Kryten," Aria started. She, too, coughed just before speaking again. "What myself and miss Polyurethane trousers here have found out is that Rimmer isn't _completely_ insane."

"Are you sure about that, Ari?" Lister asked, only half sarcastic.

"See for yourself," She set the page down on the top of a workstation for everyone to see.

The Cat's brown, narrowed eyes surveyed the paper with concentration before looking up at Aria and Kochanski with a perplexed gaze. "Numbers?"

"Coordinates," Lister said as his eyes fixated on the findings, eventually diverting to Rimmer. "But what to?"

Rimmer simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He didn't know; he didn't even remember writing any of it on the walls, let alone doing so in a foreign language.

"You don't know," Lister flatly said, then turned his attention back to Aria and Kochanski. "Are you two sure about this? I mean, he ain't exactly all here, is he?"

The hologram shot a glare at Lister. "He is, however, _standing_ right here."

"I'm just sayin', how can we be sure this isn't just weird behaviour?"

"I would have to agree," Kryten chimed in. Despite the glowering look he got from Aria and Rimmer, he kept on siding with his scouser pal. "We know he was at his worst in that wretched place. This could have very well been his condition acting up."

"Midnight," Rimmer stated monotonously out of the blue. Something in his long-term memory had finally clicked.

Everyone looked at the hologram, without saying a word, each of them holding a puzzled gaze as they tried to decipher this random word. According to current ship time, it certainly wasn't midnight.

Then he said something else that left them further confused: "Subject Denver."

The Cat gave the others a perplexed stare, jerking his head toward Rimmer. "What's Goalpost-head talking about now?"

Appearing, as well as sounding decidedly lethargic, he replied, "I don't know," When he tried to hark back to it, his head felt as though it would explode.

Lister scoffed in derision. "You have really lost it, Rimmer, you–"

Kochanski held a finger up in Lister's direction, instantly hushing him, while she kept her attentive gaze on Rimmer. "What's subject Denver?"

He gave no response.

After she held up the paper with the coordinates written down she asked, "Is this where they're located?"

Lacklustre, Rimmer finally spoke. "I think so."

Aria knew from his low energy that he wasn't doing well, and lightly touched Rimmer's bicep for comfort. A reassuring smile flashed upon her face just before she immediately took charge as she normally would; it was a hard habit of hers to break. "Okay. Kryten, I want you to find where these coordinates lead. Krissy, you navigate once we get the location. Lister, you and Cat do what you do best: fly the damn ship without being detected."

Not one of them moved an inch. They weren't used to her giving the orders; more often than not, they did as they pleased. The four of them stood there, blank-faced.

"Well, are you gonna stand here till New Years?! Let's go, go, go!" she barked, clapping her hands.

They hurried out the door and proceeded to do as they were instructed.

Aria turned to see Rimmer looking at her with bedroom eyes. "What?"

Scarcely, he shook his head. Every inch of him craved her in that instant. "I love it when you go commando."

Her dusty rose lips briefly pursed somewhat and her eyes narrowed. "Have you been watching me get dressed again?"

Rather than saying yes, he asked, "What should I do?" He was eager and willing to participate.

"Well..." she faltered, unsure if she should have said anything in the first place.

His once expectant face, beaming smile, sagged in a flash. Fully understanding her response, even though she didn't give one, he nodded. "Right. Too unstable," At a snail's pace, he revolved to leave, hoping that his slow-moving would give her enough time to stop him, and give him a task out of the kindness of her heart. "I'll just–"

"Arnie?"

The hologram stopped and perked up. He tried to hide his smirk before turning on his heels. As straight as a telegraph pole, he stood before her, his chest slightly puffed out and a big grin on his face. This was it. For the first time in years, he was about to get an order. While Aria wasn't officially allowed to give commands, he would still travel to the edge of the universe for her, if she asked him to.

"How are you feeling?"

Immediately his posture slumped. His high hopes came crashing to the ground. Despite his system telling him to disregard the need to exhale, Rimmer's basic instinct to sigh harshly through his mouth took over. Not only was he denied a single command, but he was also asked the same question everyone had been asking since he got back. It was infuriating.

"I wish people would stop asking me that. I'm fine!" A distinct flicker in his projection rebutted him right then and there. "Ignore that," he dismissed with a wave of the hand and avoided her worried gaze. "It's nothing."

"It isn't," she insisted as she tilted her head and torso until their eyes finally met. "What happened earlier–"

"That's exactly it, Harkness — _it was earlier_. I'm fine now."

"Yeah, you've mentioned," she retorted.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Rimmer," she began with an irked chortle. She hadn't marked the hologram kneading away his sudden headache, or that his usual-sullen features had twisted into a pained wince. "Since you've come back you've had _fifteen_ resentment drains in just _thirty hours_. You've been glitching out like bad satellite reception, you haven't eaten–"

Unable to stand the light, he squeezed his eyes shut as well as covered them with the back of his hand. Whether it was from rampancy or a migraine, he wasn't sure. However, he did know that an argument was not going to help, and one was undoubtedly about to break out.

Rimmer's eyes had opened but were only crinkled slits; any wider and the pain would have returned. He gulped, forcing down a sour taste before he spoke his mind. "Can we... perhaps do this another time?"

"I mean, okay, technically holograms don't _need_ to eat, but it helps with your energy levels, right?" she went on without a beat.

"Harkness!"

Aria placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, sorry. Is my worrying too much for you?"

The heel of his palm bore down on his forehead, his long fingers threading into his hair and yanking on it. "Shut up," he wearily managed past his shallow respires.

"It's just I'm finding it hard not to right now, y'know? It's not like I can bloody help it!"

The glow of fluorescent lights and LED monitors intensified, brightening the Science Room more and more by the second. A hum that started out low and quickly increased were coming from every bulb, every machine in the room. The monitors blew one by one with a pop _._ Sparks flew.

"SHUT UP!" he barked like a full-fledged pissed off german shepherd.

Soon after, there was a loud snap, then the lights went out.

Halfway to the lift, Lister and the Cat made a full stop when they heard the commotion.

"The hell was that?" Cat demanded.

"What do you think it was, man?" A voice inside the scouser's mind begged him not to check it out, but another wanted to for Aria's sake. Lister heavily sighed in self-resentment and decided not to listen to Paranoia. "C'mon, let's go."

Rimmer and Aria both stood, silent except for their heavy breathing.

She only wished that intercourse was the reason for their panting. She felt sick to her stomach in that moment. Arguing was not something neither she nor her body enjoyed. What else could she do, when he was being more stubborn than usual?

At last, the generators kicked on.

Upon seeing how miserable he appeared, how he was barely able to stand straight and subtly trembling, Aria's gut twisted twofold.

"Everything okay?" Lister timidly asked. He had seen them at loggerheads many a time, though he'd never seen them like this. A speechless Arnold Rimmer and Aria Harkness was one thing, but both of them quiet at the same time? Lister knew this would be turbulent.

She paid no mind to Lister or the Cat. "You know what? There is something you can do," she said to Rimmer in as steady a voice as she could manage.

"Which is?"

"Sleep!"

Rimmer's mouth snapped shut, his nose twitched infinitesimally. "Sleep?" he demanded.

"Yes, _sleep_! You need it and, _quite frankly_ , it's the _only_ thing you can do that won't jeopardise our lives!"

"You _really_ think I'm that far gone?"

Aria raked back strands of hair from her face and sighed. "I'm starting to, yeah," she replied regrettably.

That really did him in. Anytime anyone ever questioned his sanity or ability, which was quite often, it always cheesed him off to no end.

Rimmer's blood began to boil. His tongue danced around in his gaping mouth as his jaw shifted; his eyebrows raised yet also slightly downturned in a scowl. "Well, I'm not!" he snapped past clenched teeth. "I'm not useless!"

"No one is saying that! No one is even thinking it!" Aria took notice of Lister and, in particular, Cat, who was giving her a look that said otherwise. "No one other than the Cat is thinking it," Another breath puffed out of her flared nostrils. "Look, just go to bed, alright?"

"No," Rimmer stood with his arms firmly crossed. "I'm not taking orders from _you_."

"I think you might want to, man," Lister jerked his head towards the medi-bed. "You are still on the mend after that smackdown earlier."

"Lister, I'm f–"

"Don't say it!" Aria interjected, wagging her index finger at him. "If you don't do what I tell you, I'm shutting you off."

The hologram remained in the same position. Glaring hazel eyes fixated on her.

They stared each other down once more, neither of them moving, or even blinking. That was until Aria decided she had enough of this.

She swiftly reached for her vortex manipulator.

"Don't–!"

Before Rimmer could finish his protest, Aria had shut his projection off.

The tiny device that gave the hologram life dropped to the floor.

_Clank!_

Aria bent over with a grunt of an old woman, and after eyeing it a moment, she smiled in relief. "So much better."

"Turn me on!" Rimmer commanded, his voice high and whinier than usual.

"Oh, not in front of the boys..."

"Harkness!!"

Aria tossed the bee to Lister. "Let me know when you've got something," she said while she strode out of the room.

"Y-yeah, sure," Lister stammered and watched her leave before looking at the device. "You really know how to piss her off, man."

"Oh, shut up!"

* * *

The sound of Kryten's mech boots hurriedly clattering against the ship's floor echoed as he made his way to Aria's sleeping quarters, papers in one hand and a videotape in the other.

Once he made it through the doorway, he caught sight of Aria sitting sombre-like at the small, metal desk that Rimmer usually occupied during revision time. "Ah, you _are_ here. I thought as much. Where's Mister Rimmer?"

Aria jerked her thumb over her shoulder, toward her bed where the hologram's light bee laid.

The mechanoid gasped. "What happened? Why is he switched off?"

"He was pissing me off," she emotionlessly replied. "Dave had him before he was driven mad, then he dropped him off here."

"Oh. Well, I just came by to let you know that we found the location of those coordinates, and to give you this," Kryten set the tape as well as the papers on the desk. "and this."

"What is it?"

"The layout for the facility. The video is some archived CCTV footage. I didn't get a chance to watch it yet, but I do know that it was recorded in Denver's cell. Shall I let the others know we'll be headed out soon?"

She scrutinised the blueprints, baby blues gradually widening. "No," she droned, voicing her musings.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I do feel that we should be quick about this. We don't know if that other crew will come back, and I would hate to have something terrible happen to Denver."

"No, it's not that. It– I know this place. It's _Torchwood thirteen_. Well, timelines and all that, it _was_. _Now_... it's a high-security prison?"

Kryten nodded once. "Otherwise known as _M-Thirty-Two_ : one of _Andromeda's_ most notorious prisons. Incidentally, the _Samsara_ was carrying out experiments on a team of human volunteers transferred from this very place."

" _Samsara_?"

"It was a _MegaCorp_ owned research and development station. It crashed over three million years ago, into an ocean moon."

Aria moaned in annoyance. " _M-Corp_ again? I'm starting to sense a pattern here," Her eyes then popped open wide. "Wait — _Andromeda_? Is that where the coordinates lead?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Simulants have since taken over, and it's been moved into the _Ryes_ _Galaxy_."

"Well, Denver should be having a wonderful time then!"

"I highly doubt that, Miss Harkness," Kryten clocked her slight glare. "Oh. I see. You were being sarcastic again, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was. Now!" She clapped her hands and shot to her feet. "Let's get this done. How far is it?"

"If we take _Starbug_ , about a day's worth of travel, ma'am."

"Okay. I'll go with Dave, Arn and the Cat, you stay here with Kristine and Donna."

"Of course, ma'am. I'll make sure you have enough fuel and supplies for your journey."

* * *

After having gathered the essentials — the basics, along with Lister's week's worth of curry, Cat's thirteen outfits and shoes and eleven mirrors, Aria with her music and Rimmer with… himself — they all said their goodbyes on the landing gantry.

As Kryten held Donna, Rimmer put one finger in each of her tiny hands. "I promise I'll come back this time," he said to her, his tone subdued.

Donna's lower lip quivered and her big, cadet-blue eyes welled up, simply because she could tell he was upset.

"Oh, don't cry. You'll get me started."

"I hope neither of you cries," Kryten whimpered. "Then _I'll_ get started."

The Cat scoffed. "What babies," he remarked.

"Tell me about it," said Lister, right before turning away and wiped away tears.

Kochanski caught him sniffling and simpered at him. "You really are a sentimental guy, aren't you?"

He blew his nose into his jacket sleeve. "Sorry."

Although she used to be repulsed by this, she now found it endearing. She chuckled. "It's fine. I think it's sweet. I'm going to miss you," she replied, wiping his tears away with her fingers.

Lister took hold of her hand and held it against his cheek. "I'll miss you, too."

"For crying out loud!" Cat griped. "We'll only be gone a few hours."

"Sir, you'll be away for at least two days."

Cat's dark-chocolate brown eyes bulged. "Two days?" he incredulously echoed. "I'm gonna need more clothes!"

Right as Cat was about to sprint off, Aria grabbed him by his collar. "Oh, no, you don't," she told him, pushing him past Starbug's hatchway and gave the others a curt nod. "I assume you were briefed."

"Yeah, we–"

Aria didn't give him a chance to finish talking. "Great. Take-off in two."

"Right…" Lister flashed an affectionate smile to Kochanski, then embraced her in a warm hug he never wanted to end.

She lowered her head into Lister's shoulder, hoping his jacket would soak up her tears. "If you don't come back in one piece, I'm going to make you wish you had," Her voice came muffle and almost monotoned.

"You got it."

"Mister Rimmer, sir," Kryten whined. "I think perhaps you should get going or… or…" He couldn't finish the sentence without sobbing.

"Oh, alright, I'm going," Rimmer leered at the mech, but quickly softened his gaze when he laid eyes on Donna a second time. He leaned down and kissed the crown of her head. "Behave yourself."

Donna lightly slapped her hand on Rimmer's hologram indicator and tried to take it off.

It hurt, but Rimmer didn't care. How could he when she was so cute? He scrunched up his features and grinned at her one last time. He sighed and dragged himself into the ship, lingering with each step, his hazels fixed on his daughter.

"We'll take care of her, sir. Don't worry about a thing."

He rolled his eyes. Easier said than done, Bog Bot. Even so, he had no choice but to leave with them. Only he knew where to look for Denver.

Lister broke away from Kochanski and started to go inside, his head hanging low, brown eyes trained on his boots. He bucked up only just and placed a hand on the hologram's back. "C'mon, man. Let's go."

"Yes, yes, fine," he said, still hesitating, but went in anyway. It was only a split second before Rimmer poked his head through the hatchway. "If she gets fussy, just give her Mister Flibble."

"Of course, sir."

Rimmer nodded and headed back inside. Another second later, he popped out again. "Only one hour of television. No more, even if she does that pouty thing."

"Rimmer," Lister gently called out to him in his usual, Liverpudlian drawl.

The hologram's eyes diverted to Lister, and his nose twitched. "What?" he growled.

"Let's go." 

The two piled into _Starbug_ , exchanging glances. One coming from Lister, which was his usual, cherubin expression, and another from Rimmer, who simply stared angrily at him.

"What did I do?" Lister asked.

Rimmer had that look of near imperceptible shock, as if to wonder if he really had to ask such a thing. "I'm not ready to leave her," he replied. "Couldn't you see that?"

"Well, you're gonna have to some time."

"And if this time is like the last?"

There wasn't a single response that sounded even remotely reassuring. It could very well end badly. They were going to an unknown facility, where prisoners were held captive and had experiments done on them, some of them bordering on mass homicide. Though, that was the way of _M-Corp_. Their motto was, 'If it wasn't done illegally or immorally, it wasn't worth doing.'

Finally, Lister mustered up the courage to say something, albeit it was not what Rimmer wanted to hear. "Rimmer, I don't know, man. Look, I know you're worried, but it'll be fine. We just have to wing it."

"Wing it?" he echoed, frustrated.

"Why not? We've done it before."

"No, Lister, we've never done _this_ before," said Rimmer, motioning his hand to Aria grabbing everything she could in the small arms cabinet, and Cat, who was pacing; something he, the cool and confident feline never did. " _None of us_ are ready."

Smeg, he might be right. Lister strode in to the Scanner Room. "Cat, are you okay?"

The sound of the scouser's voice was unexpected. Cat jumped, his back somewhat arched. Once he realised who it was, he instantly felt embarrassed for having such a reaction from such a tasteless monkey. Naturally, he took his resentment out on Lister. "What?" he barked.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. I'm cooool," The clank of Aria slamming the munitions cabinet door startled him, yielding a dubious expression from her. "Hey, do you mind?"

She inclined her body to one side and folded her arms. "Oh, sorry, did I debunk your defence?"

"Yeah!" Then, it hit him that he had admitted to losing his cool for a moment. "I mean– What?"

Aria's baby blues scrolled upwards, then riveted to Lister, the one who was marginally calmer and more qualified than her and much more qualified than Rimmer. "You're at the helm for now, alright?"

"Yeah, sure. On it," he responded. Though he didn't sound too sure of himself. Honestly, he was just as on edge as everyone else. He shuffled into the cockpit.

Rimmer sidled up next to Aria, a puzzled look on his face. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No. Who do think I am?" She sauntered off up the stairs.

He gawked a small bit, wondering why he didn't think of it himself, then shook it off. "A real nasty piece of work," he said aloud, to no-one.


	13. Like Father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one this time. Originally, it was going to be in one, long chapter, but I decided to split it up.

Aria sat in the bunk room, alone, and started up the interrogation tape Kryten gave her earlier. The quality was about as good as watching satellite cable television; still, it was watchable, only barely.

The footage showed a man sitting at a table in a detainment cell, more commonly called 'cubes' by the inmates. The man, also known as Subject Denver for top-secret reasons, looked to be her age; late twenties. From what she could tell, he had blonde hair.

Another man, tall and in his mid to late thirties, entered the cube. He wore an all-black uniform. Only the back of him showed on camera. Even from behind, however, she felt she recognised him.

The man didn't bother introducing himself or a formal greeting of any kind. He just sat on the opposite side of the table, staring at Denver, who was in a semi-disconnected state.

"In the past, you've mentioned an interaction you had back on _Adonis_ ," the man said, cutting right to the chase. "Shortly after the Human-Simulant war had ended. Can you tell me the nature of that interaction?"

Denver kept his gaze on the wall, staying silent. The look in his eyes said he knew he wasn't one of the facilities' workers; the uniform was completely different. Regardless, he had told this story to dozens of other people, and he was beginning to grow weary of telling and even hearing it. He wasn't about to start talking about it again.

"Listen, I'm a nice guy. My captain is the one you should be worried about. Who you saw— We have reason to believe he's dangerous. We just need you to–"

"Dangerous?!" he spat out, unable to keep quiet any longer. A twinge of incredulous, insulted undertones clasping onto his words before lowering his voice. "He's such a–!" He bit his lower lip as he tried to calm down. "He wasn't dangerous, except maybe to others' sanity."

"But you _did_ see him. Right?"

Denver shifted in his seat, apprehensive of this man, not because he was intimidated, but because of some other unknown reason. His words came shakily and cautiously. "Before I had arrived at the loading docks, I heard a voice," Denver bit his upper lip to avoid busting into an unmanly sob; it didn't work too well. He seemed to be mourning a loss of some kind.

"What did he say?"

Denver sniffed and wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his prison uniform. "Nothing. He just cried — he was in too much pain," he replied, voice shaking. As the seconds passed, he became more hysterical, his words tumbled out like someone had tortured it out of him; that someone was his conscious. "He was just lying there. I think he died. I could've done something. I should've–"

"Sir, slow down. Focus."

Oh, how he did focus. And only on one thing: regret. "He was my father, goddammit!" he screamed, his voice echoing within the cell. "He looked different, but I knew– I should've done something."

"Your... father?" he echoed, slightly confused and even nervous. He frantically flipped through the pages in his notebook, as if searching for something he missed.

_Okay, so he lost his father. So?_

"Yes, my father!" Denver barked. His vocal cords were beginning to give in, cracking under the volume of his tone. "Doesn't say that in your fucking notes, does it?"

A whirring sound emitted from somewhere in the room, followed by a loud alarm. For a split-second, Aria had to observe the area to make sure it wasn't on _Starbug_.

"Sir, please–" the man begged, backing to the door.

The feed cut out for a moment, then came back, just in time for her to hear a name that sent her stomach sinking to her bowels: McGruder.

"Anything about her in there?" Denver shouted. "Even if there was, it was probably just another name, right?"

_McGruder. She– Oh, God._

A burst of oxygen escaped; she didn't even realise she was it holding in. Just as the tears that fell before began to dry on her face, new ones took their place. She covered her mouth if only to somehow mute the sounds of her sobs.

"But they're not — they're not just names on a piece of paper. They're _people_!" Denver continued, his voice nearly gone from screaming. "People who died! People I could've saved if I just–"

A large puff of smoke clouded the camera's view. It wasn't a smoke bomb, nor a malfunction with the camera. In each corner were nozzles that released sedative gas to knock out irate prisoners. Unfortunately, it not only knocked out Denver but also the man interrogating him. When the smoke cleared, they could be seen lying unconscious on the floor.

Aria stopped the tape with a firm push of the space bar. She looked away, delicately pinching the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes, and sighed. It wasn't easy to decide what she was more upset about; the fact that no-one told her Rimmer had another child, or that this poor lad was kept here for years, on his own except for his guilt and self-loathing keeping him company.

_Like father like son._

"Hey," The friendly, smiling scouser made his way through the scanner room and moved toward Aria. "Making any headway?"

At first, she was silent. In response, she shook her head, but it wasn't to say no. She was beyond frustrated. The longer she stared at the paused video feed, the more her resentment built up. She at least wanted to know one thing. "What's his name?" Aria flatly asked.

"What?"

Just as emotionless as the first time, she clarified, "Arnold's son. What is his name?"

Lister's eyes narrowed only for them to grow as large as the two moons they'd just passed. "Wait, he didn't tell you?"

"No, of course, he didn't tell me. No-one ever bloody tells me anything around here!" she snapped, nearly choking on her annoyance.

"Well, I'll tell ya," Lister sat down next to her. "His name was Michael McGruder. If I remember right, he was in the marines. Actually, he was kinda like Rimmer, 'cept braver."

"Was? You make it sound like he died."

Lister shrugged. "Dunno, really. He took off when we couldn't find Rimmer's light bee."

That piqued her attention. "He just left without closure?" she wondered, sounding more curious.

"There wasn't much of a reason for him to stay, not after Rimmer snuffed it," Going off of her confused stare, he realised she was most likely contemplating if he had gone mad. So, he went on. "Michael was gone before we could tell him we fixed him up."

"Well, you'll be able to tell him soon enough," she said and turned the screen so Lister could see.

"Is that him?" Lister's eyebrows shot up. He couldn't believe it, even though his proof was there on the screen. Michael was alive and well. As well as he could have been, being in prison.

"Seems so," she mumbled. Her head bowed, hiding her hardened yet still sombre face.

"Oh, eh. I'm sorry. I don't know why he didn't tell you."

"Probably didn't think it was important," She then got up and grabbed her fizzy drink. There suddenly was an uninterested demeanour about her, as if it didn't matter. Deep down she was still upset, but she kept it hidden. "Anyway, that's who we're looking for. We arrive in an hour."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. We found something."


	14. Brefreno Or Human?

_Starbug_ had made at a full stop, just outside the facility. Neither Rimmer nor Aria couldn't understand why; there was nothing in their way, no asteroids, GELF cruisers — nothing, that they could see.

"Show them the bad," Lister told the Cat while he gestured to the monitor in front of the felisapian.

The hologram frowned as he watched him punch in a few commands that pulled the sky map back some. Once he realised what he was seeing, Rimmer's quickly crest fell. _Oh, smeg._

Cat explained to Aria, who looked befuddled, and pointed to a dot on the display. "Now here's adorable us," he started and pointed to another dot. "And there's the station," Then he traced along the space between the two dots. "All that? That's Sim zone."

"Nobody goes in, nobody comes out," Lister added. "Look at 'em. They're just floating there."

"How do they know about this place?" Rimmer wondered aloud. "I thought it was top secret."

"Yeah, but Kryten said it was run by Simulants. They're probably guarding it," Aria stated.

Rimmer donned his usual gaze of disappointment in the crew. "Harkness, did it ever occur to you to bring this up _before_ we began heading towards the deranged killing machines?"

Riled, Lister whirled around to face him. "Hey, don't blame her! It was _you_ who led us 'ere!"

The hologram quickly became guilty and rubbed the back of his neck. _He's right. This is my fault_.

"Oh, like he knew!" Aria added, coming in to defend her man again.

"He knew where this place was, didn't he? He obviously knew what was around it, too."

Cat slumped back into his seat. "So now what?"

As she pensively gazed at the display, watching the red dot, _Starbug_ , flashing in and out. Next to them was a large asteroid. She craned her neck to get a good glimpse at it of it out of the viewscreen; she could only see the tip, as well as some broken ship parts embedded in it.

"How do these things fly?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the asteroid.

"With engines," Cat spluttered out a scoff. "Duh!"

Slowly, she slid him a dirty look. Right then, she wished that Kryten was there instead of him. "I meant do they have any sort of patterns?" she spat, trying hard not to lose it.

"No? They're Simulants. They're about as fashionable as corduroys and floral ties."

She gave the others a blank stare, rapidly blinking away the frustration. "Someone else talk to him."

"Cat, man, she means do they perform any fancy tricks..."

"Oh! Well, why didn't you say, Non-babe?" The Cat thought for only a millisecond before responding with, "I don't know."

She extensively rolled her eyes, then asked with a heavy exhale, "How far out are they?"

Rimmer leaned over his designated monitor. "Still sixty-two miles."

She slipped behind the hologram and heaved herself into his seat at his workstation, and promptly hailed _Red Dwarf_. "Kryten, you there?"

Static.

"Kryten? Kristine?"

Nothing from either of them.

"Too far out, Ari," said Lister. "We're on our own."

Her features hardened as she thought. Only one idea came to mind, and even then, she wasn't sure if it would work. That one idea was welcomed by a two worded response, which she said aloud: "Fuck it."

"Eh?"

While flipping through _Starbug's_ pilot manual, she asked, "How do GELFs operate their ships? Someone _other_ than Cat answer, please? Thank you."

The Cat glared at her before returning his attention to the radar in front of him.

"No different than humans, except they give off a different life sign reading. Obviously," Rimmer answered. "Why?"

Aria shot to her feet and grabbed some pieces of scrap off Lister's workstation that seemed useful. "Go to silent-running. Give me two minutes," she hastened to say, and with that, left the cockpit in a flash.

* * *

Two minutes came and went, and Aria didn't come back. After five minutes of waiting, Rimmer decided to check on her.

He watched her for a few seconds, sitting at the scanner table, tinkering with what resembled a light bee remote. In fact, it was exactly that. Once it struck him across his face like a scornful ex-girlfriend, his gut plummeted. He assumed the worst at that moment; being switched off was one of them.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice as jittery as a timid schoolboy asking a girl out.

She looked up at him for a split second and shuffled toward him in a hurry, Vortex Manipulator on scan mode.

He gulped as if he were nervous that she would find a deep, dark secret. "Harkness?"

"Don't move," she said, baby blues fixed on the results spewing out before her. "Huh."

Now convinced that she _did_ find his deep, dark secret, Rimmer's nose twitched infinitesimally, eyes bulging further and further by the second. Still, he kept his tone level as best as he could. "What is it?"

"I didn't think your vitals were sent through a central network and out of your hard light drive's sensor, " She tilted her head quickly. "Well, actually, it makes sense. That way it would override the old protocols by bypassing its ASCII code," Finally noticing the hologram's befuddled gaze, she giggled, smiled and said, "Sorry. Technobabble."

"Well, would you rather have the output signal come from my CPU, resulting in my light bee overloading and shorting out?" After Rimmer spoke, he blinked rapidly and felt off, like he had been possessed by an extremely smart demon temporarily, then returned to normal. He could barely recall what powered him, let alone what his components were and what they did.

"Good point," She pointed at him with the pointy end of a screwdriver. "Though you reminded me that I need to fix that. For now, I need you to hold still. Why are you being so antsy?"

"I'm trying not–" An unexpected, tickling, spasm around his abdomen had cut him off. It stopped as suddenly as it started. He couldn't help but laugh softly and grin.

Soon, Aria was copying his behaviour, smiling with him. "What is it?"

Rimmer's joyful expression shifted to a blank one. "Oh, nothing. The elastic of my underwear had just bust," he lied and straightened his posture, clasped hands resting against his lower back.

Aria slid him a sceptical gaze but didn't challenge his bullshit. Instead, she finished up with the scan. "Okay, looks good, " She plucked the light bee remote from the table and aimed it at Rimmer. "Just need to–"

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"I _was_ going to change some things, but–"

"What things?"

"I was only going to change your vital readouts. Relax!"

"No, I forbid it."

She folded her arms and regarded the hologram with indignation. "I'm sorry, do you _want_ to be a fancy paperweight in some Simulant's home office? Look, if I don't do this, I'll have to switch you off."

"Nope."

"Then let me change it."

"No!"

"Rimmer!"

"What do you want to change my readouts for anyway?"

"Because if _everyone_ here has the life signs of a GELF, the Simulants will leave us alone."

Stunned by her brilliant, yet simplistic, plan that even he should have figured out, he could only utter one word. "Ah."

"So, can I–?"

"Still a no."

"Arn, I'm not doing this back and forth thing, alright? It's now or never. Choose."

Rimmer huffed out a frustrated, airless breath, then calmed down ever so slightly. "Will this... hurt anything?"

"Shouldn't. I'm only swapping how your output appears to radars. You'll be fine."

"Hypothetically, I'm speaking hypothetically here, if there was something... _internally_ going on, would that stop if you switched me off?"

"Depending on what it is, yeah. Probably."

His mouth gape, just enough for her to see his tongue dancing anxiously behind his teeth.

Aria folded her arms and scantily tilted towards him. "Is there something I should know?" She waited and listened intently for an explanation.

Rimmer rocked on his heels, contemplating his answer. Tell her or don't; he eventually decided. "Well, actually–"

"Guys! We have a problem!" Lister called out to both Aria and Rimmer, hysterical and terrified.

She and her hologram hustled into the cockpit. Aria leaned over Lister's seat. "What is it?"

"We've got company," He pointed to two Simulant ships on the radar, their blips drifting a little too close to home.

"Is it too late to go with your plan?" asked the Cat.

"Only one way to find out," she said, then left to grab the contraption she had been working on from the scanner room. With haste, she stuck the USB end into the console's port and watched it do its thing.

Within seconds, she, Cat and Lister now gave off GELF life signs, should anyone scan them. All that was left was Rimmer.

Aria's eyes nervously darted from the hologram's hazels to his midsection then back. "Permission to–"

"Just do it," he interjected.

After pushing a button on her device, Rimmer's vital readouts immediately switched.

He expected to feel something — a twinge from the combination of coming across as both human and Brefreno — but he felt fine. Fantastic, even. He patted his front, amazed, and laughed out of relief.

Aria couldn't help but giggle with him. She then nodded to Lister, a silent cue to go ahead.

"Entering Sim space in three..." Lister then counted down the rest of the way using his fingers.

The black sky was filled with what must have been ninety ships in a vague cluster. Most of them hung stationary while others moved swimmingly about; some turned in gentle drifts, as though searching for something. Each appeared different, a hodgepodge of pillaged ships, all painted and stripped to look as predatory as possible. They ranged from tiny warships to whale-like carriers five times _Starbug's_ size.

"That's it, we're deader than a gothic dance party!" the Cat exclaimed. His worried eyes flitted from the viewscreen to Lister and back.

Aria sloughed off that hint of doom. "Been there, done that," she intoned. "Not as bad as you might think."

Rimmer scoffed. "You've obviously never been blown to smithereens, then."

She bobbed her head side to side like the hips of a novelty dashboard hula girl. "Exploded, electrocuted, hung, broken spine, shot..."

The Cat's brows raised a second before furrowing them. He leaned in toward Lister and murmured, "I think she's got him beat."

Lister scoffed, disbelieving they were even having this conversation. Moreso that he was about to add to it. He whirled 'round in his seat. "Of course you'd say it's no big deal, though. You _can't_ die."

She straightened her shirt with long, nervous strokes, then tugged at the collar and didn't vocally respond. Can't die; how hollow those words sounded in that moment.

As he ignored the three of them entirely, a roll of Rimmer's hazel eyes accompanied a heavy, windless sigh. "I told you all this was a bad idea."

"Have you got a better plan?"

"Look, Harkness, they haven't detected us yet. I suggest we leg it now before they do."

"Yeah, and what about M–?"

She stopped there. Rimmer had no clue his son was held there, and once he found out, once he found those responsible, there was bound to be hell to pay; a hell that she would rather not deal with the repercussions of. He could have a fit after they're a few million miles away.

She cleared her throat and started again. "What about _Midnight Facility_? Denver is still in there. We can't just leave him. Besides, if we gun it now, it'll definitely attract their attention."

Frustrated, Rimmer groaned like a reluctant teen who just got told what to do. He _hated_ that she was so moral. She had to be right, she just _had_ to be!

It was at that point that he wished he hadn't left _Red Dwarf_. Playing with Donna would have been less panic-inducing, less dangerous than this. Anything at all would have been safer, but no. He _had_ to follow Aria like some lost dog.

It took some mulling over, but in the end, he conceded.

"Fine," he drawled, still hesitant to leave. "but you three go. I'm not leaving _Starbug_."

While Aria checked the monitors for Simulant activity, she muttered, "Probably for the best..."

After a minute of silence, and clenching their sphincters, it seemed they were in the clear.

"I think it's working, Non-babe," hushedly said Cat.

She held her arms out, awaiting gratitude. "Of course it is. I'm brilliant."

Rimmer reached out for her. A quick tug put her sitting pretty on his lap. "You're impossible, that's what you are," he rasped, as he inched closer to her lips.

She let out a soft, longing hum, also getting nearer. Then she tapped her finger against his lips and, in a husky voice, said, "Not impossible. Just–" Right when she had him practically begging for it, she swiftly nudged him back, stood on her feet and continued. "A bit unlikely."

"Now's not the time for celebration," Lister stated. "We're not out of the woods yet."

They paid no mind to the hologram's ever-worsening condition and had more interest in the two ships they had yet to pass.

To say he had a headache was an understatement. His brain felt tiny inside his skull, increasing in size by the second. It couldn't have happened at a more disastrous time. The stress of manoeuvring through danger was not doing him any favours either.

 _Starbug_ passed a large, bizarrely shaped ship. It turned, watching her, scanning the inhabitants. A neon-orange beam washed over the small, green, bug-like ship.

The four of them recoiled but otherwise stood still. Most of them.

They were about past the final Simulant ship when something went horribly awry.

"Hey," The Cat repeatedly flicked switches and pressed buttons, only to find that nothing was working. "The entire dash is out!"

"Mine too," said Lister. "What the hell is going on?" It took him glancing at a flickering human figure behind him to suss it out. "Oh, smeg, not now!" He shot out of his seat and hurried to the glitching hologram. "Rimmer? Snap out of it!"

Having never seen a full-blown rampancy attack, Cat couldn't comprehend what was going on. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Aria.

As she, too, rose to her feet, she replied, "He's stressed," She tried getting his attention, but it was no use. "Arn, come on!"

The hologram cackled maniacally. "You're all so screwed," His light bee made a sharp, high pitched screech. "Why should we save him?" he whispered, then began laughing again.

"Would you switch him off already?" Lister demanded. "He's gonna get us all killed!"

"What good would that do? He can still have an episode in his light bee!"

A sudden, massive flare from said device caused an EMP small enough to fry their electronics but not Rimmer. The four of them were now in the dark, the ship drifting off course.

"Oh, great. Fan-smegging-tastic!" the scouser growled. "Happy now?"

"I told you," Rimmer's projection occasionally flicked from pale blue to purple. "They're coming."

Aria grabbed the small torch from Kryten's workstation and turned it on. "It's alright. They can't track us."

"Yeah, but how long will that last for?" the Cat asked. "They could still board the ship, slaughter us, rip off our limbs and use them as maracas."

"Well, you paint a lovely picture," said Aria, sotto voce. She then took hold of Rimmer by the shoulder, and watched as he gradually settled down. "Arnold, are you here?"

Sleepily, he blinked, one eyelid peeling open before the other. He stared beyond her, deeply engrossed in something.

Hesitantly, Aria peered over her shoulder and shone the light behind her to get a view of whatever it was, but nothing was there. Nothing except a wall-console. She snapped her attention back to Rimmer. "Arn, I don't–"

Another creepy chuckle left him. "Let me check the engine," he managed through his disturbing amount of jollies.

"What?!" Cat uttered in shock.

"No, no way," Lister held up his hand, though to the others, it couldn't be seen. "Not on our lives."

"Well, why not?" Aria shrugged, raising her arms halfway, then flopping them down to her sides. "He can't do any worse than you. We have to do something or we're dead in the black."

"While he's like this? Look, I know you have a good amount faith in this..." Lister paused for a moment to think of a good insult but found none. "Whatever! But you're supposed to, aren't you? He's not right in the head!"

"No shit! What do you want me to do about it out here?"

While they started arguing, Rimmer took it upon himself to lift the main dashboard and started poking around.

Cat tried grabbing their attention. "Er, buds?" However, it was to no avail. He just sat back and watched the hologram glitch and laugh occasionally while making, oddly enough, expert repairs. "Wow. You should wig out more often, Goalpost-head!"

Now hitting the peak of their dispute, Aria was furious. She snatched up the mini torch and tightly gripped it, her knuckles turning white. "I swear, if I hear you tell me one more time he needs to fixed like he's some goddamn piece of hardware, I will shove this so far up your a–" As she slammed the torch on workstation the lights, monitors and switchboards came to life.

Lister and Aria looked around, surprised. Eventually, their stunned gazes landed on Rimmer, who was appearing decidedly wiped out and frazzled.

Rimmer heaved out a deep, harsh exhale, then started breathing erratically. "You're welcome," he said, just before he collapsed, whacking his temple on the edge of the dash.

Aria sprinted to him and kneeled down beside him. "Arnold?" Gently, she shook him. "Sweetie, wake up!"

Lister squeezed past them and took control of the ship alongside Cat. "Relax. We know he's not dead. Sadly," he mumbled.

She shot him a dirty look, biting the inside of her lower lip for control. Then she took Rimmer by the under arms, rotated him to face the exit and began to drag him out of there with little ease and zero help from the others. "No, thanks, I got him," she retorted in a grunt. Aria glanced up at them to see if they were even going to lock eyes. No contact whatsoever. "Really??"

Out of nowhere, Rimmer's projection switched from hard light to soft light, phasing right through her grasp.

Aria shrieked. "Oh, God!"

"Light bee glitch," flatly uttered the Cat without looking away from the screen.

"Yeah, you think?" She stared at the unconscious hologram, arms folded. "Now what do I do?"

Cat shrugged his shoulders. "Switch him off, carry him out by hand?"

Aria speared him with a glare. "Switch him off? He's a man, not a thing!"

Lister spluttered out a snicker but quickly covered his mouth too little too late.

"Something funny, Lister? Let me guess, something along the line of, 'He isn't a man. More like a whimpering baby.' Am I right?"

He hid his smeg-eating grin. "Something like that," Lister then swivelled in his chair and looked her in the eyes. "Just leave him. He'll come to in–"

Rimmer shot up like a hornet stung him in the backside. Bewildered, he glanced around the cockpit. It was all unfamiliar to him.

"A few seconds," Lister finished. "Well, since this bit takes forever — if you don't mind, I'll just–" He jerked his thumb to his console, turned and began their ascent.

"Where am I?" asked Rimmer, his voice more than a little murmur.

" _Starbug_ ," Aria replied. She was worried, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She knew this sort of thing could happen — temporary amnesia while his memory fired up. "Listen," Her fingertips lingered over his cheek, wanting to touch him, but she remembered she couldn't. She gave him a thin-lipped smile. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I want to check you over, okay?"

Following a nod from Rimmer, she moved from the hatchway to give him room to leave, and waited for him to leave, so she wouldn't walk through him. "And _that_ is how you treat a hologram," she said with smugness before exiting.

Lister waited until after Aria left to jeer at her, sticking out his tongue and humming what she said in a mocking tone. He didn't dare do it to her face, unless he _wanted_ a beating. 


End file.
